


The Apple of My Eye

by lindianajones



Series: The Teacher AU [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Image, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Idiots in Love, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, Jewish Jaskier, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Recovery, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, Teacher Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Teacher Jaskier | Dandelion, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 72,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindianajones/pseuds/lindianajones
Summary: Jaskier is excited to start a brand new year, teaching at a new school away from his ex-boyfriend Valdo Marx, but he underestimates how hard it will be to leave his past behind. It does not help that his new colleague, the PE and Health teacher, looks like sex on legs. It's gonna be a long year.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Valdo Marx (Past)
Series: The Teacher AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143155
Comments: 363
Kudos: 490





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first time writing a fic so please be kind. I would also like to thank my beta, Processpending, for taking the time to edit this story. I am excited for this project and hope that you enjoy!

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

  
With a groan, Jaskier wiped the remnants of sleep from his eyes and flipped himself over to face the ceiling of his apartment. After a moment's contemplation on whether he could sleep through the alarm, he sighed in defeat and officially began the arduous journey towards his phone. Fine, he might have been acting a _little_ dramatic, but the sun was barely up and in his humble opinion it should be illegal for humans to be awake at such an hour. After quickly checking the time, he came to the unfortunate conclusion that snoozing his alarm was not his best option. As he slowly peeled himself from the bed he reminded himself that he needed to make a good impression; after all, it was the first day of the school year and he would have dozens of eager young students clamoring for his attention.

  
Walking from his bed towards the bathroom, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and took a moment to examine his unfortunate case of bedhead and bleary, unfocused eyes. Grimacing at his reflection, Jaskier continued with his morning routine, preparing himself for the long day ahead of him. Although he truly loved being a middle school teacher, there were times that he questioned his profession of choice, One of those times was when his alarm went off at 5:30 in the morning.

  
Hopping into the shower, Jaskier’s mind trailed off, wondering at how different his life had become during the past few months. Four years. Four years of his life wasted under the thumb of Valdo Marx, and now he was free. Sometimes the thought brought him pure, unadulterated joy, but other times, like at this moment, all he felt was terror. What was he supposed to do now?

  
Taking a calming breath, Jaskier began to hum a soothing melody to bring himself back to reality. He had left Valdo. He was safe. He didn’t have to worry about going to work anymore because his prick of a boyfriend was no longer his boss and he had been fortunate enough to find another job despite the scathing recommendation written by said asshole.

  
As he methodically lathered his lavender scented body wash across his chest, Jaskier slipped back into his mind, remembering how young and naive he had once been. Only 22 years old and doing his student teaching, he had been immediately enamoured with Valdo Marx. Who wouldn’t be? He was beautiful, smart, and extremely charming. Valdo had also been incredibly kind and cordial, refusing to even make a move on him until after he had finished his student teaching. Looking back, Jaskier wondered if Valdo had only done those things to entice Jaskier, to catch him in his web of hurt and lies.

  
Soon after his graduation, a position opened up at the school where he had completed his training. Valdo told him about the opening one night after they had gone out for an incredible date. As they were lying beneath the stars, Valdo had taken his hand and said, “There is a position opening up for a choral instructor at my school. I know that it might be a conflict of interest, with me dating you, but I think that you would be a great fit for the position. If you say no, well, I couldn’t blame you, but…”, and Jaskier had cut him off with a searing kiss under the starry, summer sky. Everything had been perfect.

  
Even now, Jaskier could not tell you if Valdo had ever loved him, but sometimes he thinks that he really had. Some days he thought Valdo had loved him, but that he had just been too irritating to continue loving. The proof was in their first year dating when things were blissfully perfect. Valdo would bring home flowers and Jaskier would cook dinner. They would carpool to work and sometimes they would have phenomenal sex on their respective desks. Things were perfect, until they weren’t.

  
It started out small. Jaskier would be talking to a colleague about new choral techniques to teach his students. Afterwards, Valdo would rush over, grabbing him harshly by the arm, interrogating him: “Who was that and why were you standing so closely together?” He had always tried his best to calm his boyfriend down, but Valdo would always insist that they go home immediately. Those nights Jaskier would inevitably get the cold shoulder, despite having sworn up and down that he had not been flirting with anyone; but in the morning things would be back to normal, with Valdo looking besotted and Jaskier feeling filled with love. 

  
Then came the wardrobe. Well, Jaskier considered as he brushed his teeth, the wardrobe and the food came in tandem. He remembered the first time that Valdo had called him fat. It had been during their first Halloween as a couple. The two had thrown a crazy Halloween bash for all their friends and co-workers, both of them being lively people who enjoyed a good party. As the night wore on they both drank and danced to their heart's content. Jaskier also ate to his heart's content, enjoying the sweets that came hand-in-hand with his favorite holiday. When the last guests left in the wee hours of the morning, Valdo had frowned at him and said, “You might want to lay off the candy Jules, you’re getting fat.” With that Valdo had collapsed onto the bed leaving Jaskier in a state of shock. He had been hurt, but when Valdo woke him the next morning with breakfast in bed, he had written it off as the alcohol talking. God, he wished that he had been right.

  
It only got worse from then on. Soon after Valdo began to make his meals for him, the portion sizes becoming smaller as the weeks passed by. Jaskier remembered when he realized what was happening and how the sweet gesture of breakfast in bed post-Halloween immediately soured in his memory. When he finally brought it up in conversation, Valdo turned to him and said, “It's not my fault you're unable to keep a healthy diet without supervision.” Jaskier had been mortified, but he couldn’t really argue; his mother had not been telling him the same thing since he was a teenager. He knew that he tended to put on weight when he was stressed...or happy...or anything other than focused on his image, but to hear his lover say that it made him less attractive...well, that hurt.

  
With the diet changes came the wardrobe change. Jaskier had always loved wearing colorful, silky clothes, with bright, patterned waistcoats being his preferred work outfit. Then Valdo started to make comments on how he looked in his favorite waistcoat. “Really Jules, must you peacock around with that ridiculous costume you call clothing. It clings to your body and shows to how fat you've gotten. Maybe you should wear something less...noticeable. At least until you get back into shape” So there went his favorite clothes, traded in for less assuming sweater vests. “They hide your beer belly Jules and you really need that now”, Valdo would say, giving him a discerning look.

  
Of course his mother _loved_ Valdo. He couldn’t truly blame her, because everyone loved Valdo. He had this charisma about him that people were just drawn towards and he never did anything untoward while they were visiting home. Valdo had been too clever to do anything suspicious in front of people. Grimacing, Jaskier noted that he had yet to tell his mother that Valdo and him were done, because he knew that she would not be pleased.

  
Four years. He had stayed with that man for four years. Jaskier felt tears slipping down his cheeks and silently chastised himself. “Get your shit together, Jask!”, he said, pointing at himself in the mirror. “You’re starting a new life, so don’t fuck this up.”

  
As he began to get dressed for the day, he sent a thank you to the universe for his friend, Priscilla. Without her he would still be stuck in that horrible situation. He had realized six months before running into Pris that things were getting bad. Valdo wouldn’t let him talk to his friends anymore and if he ever did something to dissatisfy him, Valdo would threaten to have him fired and blacklisted amongst any respectable school in the state. Jaskier loved his job and did not want to risk Valdo’s fury.

  
Then one day he was grocery shopping and he ran into Priscilla. Looking back, it must have been destiny that they ran into each other, because Valdo _never_ allowed Jaskier to go grocery shopping alone. "You'll just buy unhealthy snacks and frozen pizzas," Valdo would reply with a sneer marring his handsome features. However, that week Valdo had been at a conference for school administrators and had left detailed instructions on his diet for the week. When Pris first saw him, she had barely recognized him, sending a curious glance in his direction before turning away. A split second decision had him calling out to her. She had immediately run over, ecstatic at seeing her old college roommate. However, after a quick hug she grabbed his shoulders and looked him over. “What happened to you?”, she had asked and he had just burst into tears, sobbing on her shoulder like he had so many times before. Pris had wrapped him into her embrace and made him explain what was going on. After carefully listening, she had nodded and promised him a job if he would quit and leave Valdo.

  
He had just stared at her in awe and said, “What kind of job? Pris, I’m a music teacher and I love my job. I don’t want to stop teaching.”

  
Pris had looked at him in amusement, “Oh you’re a music teacher? I wouldn’t have guessed after living with you for four years while you trained for that specific job.”

  
Jaskier playfully punched her, but his demeanor quickly sobered. “Look Pris, how could you guarantee me a job? Valdo's my boss. He has a lot of sway over what my references look like.”

  
Taking his hands in hers, Pris had grinned like the cat that ate the canary, “Oh didn’t you hear? I am the new superintendent of the Redanian school district? I think that might give me sufficient pull in providing you a job.”

  
He had nearly fallen to the ground and kissed her feet, Pris' steady arms the only thing keeping him standing. The arrangements were settled over the next few weeks through secret meetings, both of them finding each other when Valdo was otherwise preoccupied. When he tendered his resignation to Valdo, Pris had been by his side and then had driven him to his and Valdo’s shared apartment to help him move out. It was not a pretty scene. Valdo had never laid a hand on him throughout their relationship, but he had truly thought that that statistic would change when he had told Valdo that he was leaving. Valdo had spewed filth at him, promising him that he would never find someone else that would put up with him. To be honest Jaskier agreed with him, but he also knew that he would not survive living a life with Valdo. With that knowledge, he left.

  
Jaskier pulled himself back to the present to evaluate his outfit. He was wearing his favorite turquoise waistcoat, that upon closer inspection was a collage of peacock feathers, and a matching bowtie. It brought out his eyes and emphasized his trim waistline. Valdo had tried to throw it away, but Jaskier had managed to hide it from The Great Clothing Purge -- what he privately called the destruction of his old wardrobe. Although Valdo had been a dick, he had been right about the dieting and it had paid off. Jaskier knew that he looked divine in this waistcoat and he no longer had that unattractive bulge around his midsection that the piece had emphasized the last time that he had worn it. Underneath the waistcoat was a white, three-quarter sleeve, button down. These were complemented with his favorite tan slacks and dark brown Doc Martens.

  
A glance towards his bedside table reminded him of the final decision he had to make: glasses or contacts? He had always thought that his glasses made him look smart and sexy and began to reach towards them. Then a voice that sounded suspiciously like Valdo resounded through his mind. _Oh Julian, you really should wear your contacts. Your glasses are hideous and you really don’t need anything making you look worse._ Flinching at the negative comments reverberating through his head, he grabbed his contacts and set to putting them in.

  
Finally, he gave his reflection a scrutinizing look and deemed himself not hideous and definitely presentable. He smiled and thought, 'Maybe this year will be better than the last few.' With that he grabbed his keys, his school ID, and lunch and headed towards the door; he had music to make and students to impress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are interested in what his waistcoat looks like, [here](https://images.app.goo.gl/oVv97jgheg1uGwJS8) is a link to what I was imagining  
> Please hit that kudos button and let me know what you think/any ideas you have below!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone! I am currently in quarantine, so I have been writing non-stop! Once again thank you to Processpending for betaing two chapters in the last 24 hours! Here is another chapter and I hope you enjoy.

Pulling into the parking lot of the school, Jaskier took one last deep, calming breath before turning off the engine and exiting his car. Checking his cell phone for the time, he let out a sigh of relief when he realized that he has 20 minutes before homeroom starts, allowing him extra time to set up his room before reporting to his post. Although he was not on homeroom duty, he had been assigned to hall duty during the mornings, meaning that he would not be able to sneak in late any day.

With this in mind, Jaskier locked his car and walked into the building. Although he had been to his room earlier that summer to set up, the energy of the building changed when school was actually in session. Even with no children on the premises, the building buzzed with activity and his colleagues preparing themselves for the first day back. Walking into the main office, Jaskier removed his pen from his lanyard, signing himself in at 6:45 AM. Rolling his eyes at the ungodly hour, Jaskier turned around to leave.

On the way out of the office, while he was mentally listing the final touches he had to make in his room, Jaskier felt himself bump into what appeared to be a wall of muscle. Unprepared for this obstruction on his path, he immediately felt himself falling backwards until a pair of strong hands grabbed his shoulder, steadying his balance.

“God, I am so sorry! I obviously haven’t had enough coffee…” Mid-ramble, Jaskier looked up at the person he had run into and was suddenly speechless. Jaskier was unaware that Greek gods taught in Middle schools, but he was apparently wrong. Looking into a pair of amber eyes, surrounded by white, soft hair, he idly thought that this was possibly the most attractive man he had ever seen in his life. Jaskier blushed even harder, cursing his fair complexion and his propensity to turn scarlet at the drop of a hat. “Umm, I-I…”, Jaskier stuttered, attempting to speak to this beautiful man in front of him.

Looking down at his lanyard, Jaskier discovered that the beautiful man had an equally beautiful name: Geralt Rivia. With this new information he tried to restart the conversation. The last thing he needed was one of his new colleagues thinking that he was an imbecile. “Hello! Sorry, you caught me off guard there. I’m Jaskier, the new music and choral teacher.”

“Hmmm, sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I'm Geralt the PE and Health teacher.” Jaskier nearly swooned upon hearing his voice. Christ, not only was he gorgeous but he had a voice that belonged in a porno!

'Stay cool, Jask. Don’t be a fucking spaz!', he thought to himself as he shook his new co-worker’s hand. Out loud he replied, “Oh don’t worry about it. Had my head in the clouds, it was really my fault. I’m a bit of a klutz.” Rubbing his neck and giving a self-deprecating smile, Jaskier lightly chastised himself, because he was definitely being a spaz.

Geralt gave a slight smile and responded, “Well, I guess we both weren’t paying attention. I’ll see you around, Jaskier. Good luck on your first day.” With that he removed his hand from Jaskier’s shoulder and walked into the main office.

Flustered, Jaskier began to straighten his waistcoat, shouting back, “Um, yes, yes! You as well!” Quickly walking towards his new classroom, he immediately entered the space and shut the door behind him. With his back to the door, he slid to the floor and murmured, “Great job, Jask! Excellent first impression! Fucking fantastic.” After allowing himself a momentary existential crisis, he peeled himself off of the floor and set about placing his belongings behind his desk.

As he mindlessly set to putting the final touches on his classroom, Jaskier could not take his mind off of his new co-worker. Geralt Rivia. He was truly beautiful and seemed nice enough. Maybe he hadn’t completely fucked up their first interaction! Scoffing at himself, he hears the Voice in his head say, _Really Jaskier, as if someone like that would ever consider degrading themselves by liking you. You should set your standards lower, then you are less likely to be disappointed._ Sighing dejectedly, he decided that The Voice was once again right; Geralt was incredibly out of his league. He was also his colleague, and he might be foolish, but he had learned his lesson about dating the people you work with.

Looking at the clock on the wall, he gasped, finding that he only had thirty seconds to run to his post. “Ah fuck!” Dropping what was in his hands, he began to speed walk towards his post, just managing to get there before the first bell rings. “God this is going to be a long day,” Jask wryly thought as a flood of children swept through the building.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Even though the day had a rough start, things smoothed out during his first period class. It was eighth grade general music, which was a mandatory subject that students took one quarter of the year. His first set of students seemed polite and ready to learn. He did catch a few of the girls giggling behind their hands and looking away quickly, but overall they were quite attentive.

The rest of his classes passed in a blur until sixth period, which was his free period for lunch. As he was pulling his lunch container out of his desk, he heard his door open and a familiar voice say, “Heyyo!” Looking up, he found Pris walking into his new room.

Smiling, he responded, “Don’t you have important things to be doing, Madame Superintendent?”

Giggling she said, “Why of course, but I looked up your teaching schedule, saw that you have lunch during this block, and decided to come and see how your first day was going!”

Jaskier knew Pris very well and could tell that she was not telling the whole truth. “Okay, Pris, so why are you really here?”

Sighing, his best friend lowered herself onto his desk and took his hand. “What I was saying wasn’t a complete lie. I did want to see how your first day was going, but I also wanted to make sure that you weren’t hiding away in your classroom when you could be making friends in the teacher’s lounge.”

Jaskier looked up at Pris, who was staring at him with her sad eyes. God, he hated when he made her sad. Why was he always bringing sadness to the people he loves? Shaking those thoughts out of his head he says, “Darling, it’s been a long time since I’ve socialized with so many people. I’m not sure if I am ready to…” and he trailed off, realizing that he wasn’t certain what he was not ready for.

Pris looked him in the eyes and replied, “I know. And that is why I am here to take lunch with you in the teacher’s lounge. That way you have me to lean on.” With that she squeezed his hand and led him towards the door.

Laughing, he allowed her to pull him away towards the teacher’s lounge. He knew that she was right and that he should really be trying to make new friends at work, but he can’t help the ball of anxiety burrowing deep into his stomach. Right before they reached the door, he tugged on Priscilla’s hand, signaling her that he needed a moment. After taking a fortifying breath, he walked into the room, still holding onto his best friend’s hand like his life depended on it.

Walking into the room, he noticed that not many people were actually there. There were two men engaged in conversation near the vending machines, who he vaguely recognized. Then his eyes went towards the corner and he saw Geralt silently eating his lunch by himself. Priscilla saw him looking at Geralt and said, “Oh have you met Geralt? He’s a bit of a loner, not very talkative, but a very nice man! He has a lovely daughter who is in the high school now.”

Jaskier stowed that bit of information away while he turned bright red thinking about their encounter that morning. “Umm yeah, I met him. Very nice man, but I kind of walked into him and nearly fell on my ass. Not exactly the best first impression.” He saw Pris looking between him and Geralt with a knowing look in her eye. Suddenly, she was pulling him towards the corner, right where Geralt was sitting.

Geralt looked up at the two of them, staring, but saying nothing. Priscilla finally broke the silence with a cheerful, “Hello! Do you mind if we join you?” Geralt paused for a moment and nodded his head, giving permission.

Sitting down, Jaskier took out his lunch, a small salad and an apple that he had grabbed earlier that morning. Looking over at Geralt, he decided to attempt conversation. “I love the way that you just sit in the corner and brood. Rough first day?”

“Hmmm, no." There was a brief silence before the other man said, "I'm just not one for small talk.” Jaskier blushes and goes about eating his salad. It wasn’t very tasty, but it did the job. At that moment, Geralt cleared his throat and awkwardly said, “Hmmm, h-how is your first day going?”

Jaskier was taken aback. He couldn’t remember the last time that anyone other than Pris or his family had asked him how his day was going. Spluttering, Jaskier turned back towards his salad, “Oh not too bad. The kids are fairly well-behaved, well, as well-behaved as adolescents can be.”

Geralt smirked, lifting a spoonful of his stew towards his mouth. “Yeah, teenagers are bad, but pre-teens can be a nightmare.” Another silence fell upon the group as they continued to eat their respective lunch. Jaskier examined the food in Geralt’s container and wished that he could eat things like that. Immediately The Voice began reprimanding him. _You know why you can’t eat rich foods like that. If you did you would blow up like a balloon!_ Sighing, Jaskier took another bite of his salad, ignoring the delicious scent of food beside him.

Lunch continued on and the three of them made small conversation. Right before the bell rang, they all gathered up their containers and started to head back to their classrooms. “See you later Jaskier, Priscilla,” said Geralt with a wave, walking in the direction of the gymnasium.

As they walked back towards his classroom, Jaskier saw Priscilla giving him a sly look from his peripheral vision. “He’s cute,” she finally spat out, wiggling her eyebrows at him for dramatic effect.

“Drop it,” he sternly replied, ice running down his spine at the thought of his last relationship with a co-worker.

Priscilla went quiet for a moment and finally said, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” Jaskier wanted to say it was okay, but he was very upset at the moment and just couldn’t seem to say anything. With doleful eyes she took his hand and continued. “I know that you went through a lot and that you are still healing. I-I just want you to be happy, Jask.”

Hearing those words, his heart broke in two. He had never meant to hurt Priscilla. She was his best friend in the entire world. With this in mind, he tugged her into a hug in the middle of the halls. “I know. I promise I’m working on it and I’m so sorry that I make you worry.”

She gave a wet laugh and hit him playfully on the shoulder. “Oh Jask, you have always made me worry, so this is nothing new. Just...please take care of yourself.” With that, she patted him on his shoulder and walked away.

Jaskier found himself standing in the hallway for a moment, watching her walk away. God he loved Pris so much. At one point, he had thought it was romantic love, but now he knew that she was the best friend that he would ever have. He knew that he would just have to try harder for her. He could do that. Realistically, he knew that was the least he could do after all the shit he's put her through. He knew all about trying harder--about trying to be better. _Y_ _eah,_ The Voice responded, _but you have no experience in actually succeeding in the task_. With a bitter smile, he walked towards his classroom; he had a chorus to teach and that was something that he _was_ good at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed it! If anyone wants a visualization of what Priscilla looks like, I am imagining her as Madeleine Hyland, Joey Batey's roommate and band mate. Smash that kudos button!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I'm back! So I am going to try and get on a posting schedule. It will usually be Wednesday and Saturday, but since I started off not on these days, that will start next week! Either way, let me know what you think below!

Geralt entered his house after a long day at work, shutting the door with a sigh. He walked over to his favorite armchair and promptly sat down. As he ran his fingers through his hair, he began to question whether the universe just enjoyed fucking with him or if he just had incredibly shitty luck. Honestly, it could go both ways.

The day had started out like any other school morning. He had woken up to his alarm blaring at 5 AM to give him time for both a quick jog and a perfunctory shower. Around 6 AM he had woken up his daughter Ciri, ensuring that she actually made it to her first day of sophomore year. His efforts had been rewarded by a vicious attack on his person by various flying objects. Luckily for him, the majority of them had been pillows and had not bruised anything except his pride. He rolled his eyes at the recent memory, wondering how his little girl’s first day of school went. 'Not so little now. She’s sixteen this year! God, I’m getting old,' Geralt thought, slumping even further into the armchair. 

He put aside his existential dread in favor of thinking about his day. Breakfast had been a simple but filling meal of eggs and toast. After driving the two of them to school, he had gotten out of the car and walked towards the main office. Up until then everything had been completely normal; then his entire world had tilted on its axis.

Geralt hadn’t known that eyes could look so blue and that a man could be so...pretty. Upon further contemplation, Geralt decided that pretty was the correct word, although it was uncommon to use it when describing a man. When he had bumped into, and subsequently steadied Jaskier, he had first been drawn to his eyes, but then he had noticed the rest of him. Perfectly formed, pink lips, a melodic voice, effortlessly tousled hair, and a face like a Disney prince. It had taken him only one second to realize that he was incredibly attracted to the man. Who wouldn’t be? 

Geralt was a grown man who had dated -- and bedded -- several men and women in his day, but he had never had this reaction to a co-worker before. Hell, he hadn't had a reaction like this since he had first met Yennefer. It definitely had not helped that the man was downright cute when he rambled nervously. No grown man should be that adorable and sexy at the same time! After shooting off some short, but polite conversation, he had walked towards his classroom, unable to take his mind off of Jaskier. 

He had been completely distracted during the first few periods of the day, thinking back to the nervous, but beautiful man he had met in the main office. Although his wandering thoughts had made it difficult to focus on handing out syllabi for his health classes, it had also made the time pass by quickly. Before he knew it, it had been his free period. Geralt had grabbed his lunch and headed towards the teacher’s lounge. Although he did not usually eat there, he had told himself that he was just trying to change things up. Despite all of the excuses he had made to himself, he knew the true reason for his change in routine -- he had wanted to see if Jaskier was going to eat in the teacher’s lounge. 

Upon entering the small space, Geralt had found a table in the corner of the room and claimed it for himself. He was under no delusions that he was an approachable or friendly person. The majority of people were intimidated by his large stature and quiet nature, so he had not surprised when no one else sat down at his table. That was fine with him. He was better off alone anyways. Taking one last look around the room, Geralt had dug into his beef and vegetable stew.

He had been quite surprised when Jaskier had entered the room holding hands with the new superintendent. Several questions ran through Geralt’s head: 'How do they know each other? Are they dating? Doesn’t she have other things to be doing as the superintendent?' Tearing his eyes away from the handsome, young couple, Geralt had silently chastised himself. 'That is none of your business! You don’t even know him, so stop being so weird.' 

Focusing back on his lunch, he had been startled when a few moments later the subject of his thoughts asked to sit with him. Shrugging his shoulders, he had acquiesced. If they wanted him to be the third wheel, then he wasn’t going to stop them. That was why he had once again been surprised when Jaskier said, “I love the way that you just sit in the corner and brood. Rough first day?” Geralt had been a bit confused, but answered truthfully. His day was going well, but he was not a big talker. Geralt had thought that Jaskier had just been trying to be kind and include him in their conversation, but that theory had been quickly dashed when he saw a blush work its way up Jaskier’s face as the younger man turned away sheepishly. 

'Dammit!' Geralt had thought, 'You made him sad, say something!' Searching his brain for a way to salvage the situation, Geralt had cleared his throat and said, “Hmmm, h-how is your first day going?” His reward for asking that simple question had been a small, shy smile. 'Wow. I should make him smile more often. He's beautiful when he smiles.' Geralt startled out of his ruminations with that simple thought. Shit, he had it bad. 

Returning his attention back to his day, Geralt saw the rest of the events play out like a film reel. He had turned back towards his meal and noticed Jaskier stealing hungry glances at his food. Geralt had sneakily glanced at what Jaskier had brought for lunch and nearly did a double take. The brunette only had two items placed before him: an apple and a salad made solely of greens. Geralt had furrowed his eyebrows in dismay, taking in the salad that Jaskier had poked at with a dissatisfied face. 'Of course he was hungry! That isn’t a meal! No wonder he is so slim,' Geralt’s brain growled in protest. Earlier that morning, Geralt had noticed that Jaskier was rather light, barely needing any of his strength to steady him.

After he had noted that disturbing detail, he had looked over at the superintendent -- who upon further contemplation he believed might be a friend -- and caught her shooting worried looks at Jaskier. Geralt had filed away this information. He didn’t know Jaskier well-enough to say anything, but he had decided at that moment that he would definitely be keeping an eye on the man.

Geralt was dragged out of his introspection when his golden retriever, Roach, started to bark. Looking at his feet, he saw Roach holding her leash in her mouth, all the while nudging Geralt’s hand. Chuckling, he scratched Roach behind the ears and said, “Sorry bud, I was thinking about a new co-worker. He seems...nice, but very nervous. I think that I am going to try and get to know him.”

“Oooooo a new co-worker, please do tell,” came an excitable voice from the front door. Turning around, Geralt saw his daughter, Ciri, walking through the door. “Hi Dad!”

Geralt furrowed his brow. “What are you doing home so early? I thought that you were staying after to hear more information about the extra-curriculars.”

Ciri smirked at him and said, “I did, but it is already 5:30, so I’m back. Did you lose track of time thinking about your new co-worker?” She fell silent, communicating her amusement through wiggling her eyebrows at Geralt.

Looking down at his fitbit he saw that Ciri was right and that it was 5:30. “Shit! I haven’t started dinner!” He immediately catapulted himself out of his armchair and towards the kitchen.

“Swear Jar!” Ciri said, appearing amused at his expense. “And you never answered my question. Who is this new co-worker you're talking about?”

Geralt peered over his shoulder to give his daughter a wry look, “We don't have a Swear Jar anymore, because you started to curse more than I do.” Ciri sniffed indignantly at that, but continued to give him a questioning look. Geralt silently cursed Yennefer for teaching their daughter how to look at people like that. “His name is Jaskier. He’s the new music teacher.”

Ciri gave her father a knowing look, “Oh really? Because Dara texted me and told me that his new music teacher was _super_ hot. Are you sure that you want to be _friends_ , Dad?” Geralt turned back to look at his daughter, where she stood with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. 

'Yeah,' thought Geralt, 'she is definitely spending way too much time with Yen.' Instead of voicing his thoughts, he turned back towards the stove and said, “He's my co-worker Ciri. I wasn’t exactly checking him out.”

“Yeah, sure Dad.” Ciri walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, just like she had done since he adopted her nearly a decade ago. Sadly, he realized that she can actually reach his waist now instead of grabbing onto his legs. She was getting so tall. “You and mom got divorced four years ago. Maybe it’s time to start ‘checking people out’ again.”

Geralt grunted back, “Is this an intervention? From my daughter?” He noted that she wasn’t wrong or the first person to have brought up this conversation. It had been four years since Yennefer and he had ended their marriage, but he was so busy raising Ciri that the thought of meeting someone else never occurred to him.

Ciri laughed and replied, “Not quite yet, but dad…” and she paused, as though she were gathering the strength to say something. “Dad, you deserve to be happy.”

Geralt looked Ciri in the eyes before saying, “Honey, I _am_ happy! Raising you makes me very happy.”

Ciri returned his gaze with sadness lingering in her eyes, “Dad I know, but that doesn’t mean that you wouldn’t be happier if you found someone to love.”

Geralt huffed out an amused laugh. “When did you get to be so wise,” he asked, while mussing up Ciri’s hair. 

“Daaaddd! Stop changing the subject!” cried out Ciri trying to escape his arms.

Geralt sighed and stopped messing up her hair. “Ciri, if I promise to start putting myself out there again, can we please stop having this conversation?”

Ciri laughed at her father, who was turning bright red at discussing of his lack of a sex life. “Fine, I’ll take Roach on a walk. I’ll be back in fifteen.” With that, she gave him a kiss on his cheek and left with Roach. 

Alone again, Geralt mulled over the conversation that he had with his daughter. Honestly, he had _not_ seen that coming, though that seemed to be the trend of the day. Running a hand over his face, he turned his focus to preparing the green beans for dinner. Yes, Ciri made good points, but he hadn’t met anybody that had held his interest. 'Well, except for Jaskier,' replied his traitorous mind. 'Shut up', he replied back with equal force. Shaking his head, Geralt decided that he would not make a move on Jaskier. All he wanted was friendship. Yeah, he could get behind that. Nothing more. He could do this. With his mind made up, he finished cutting the green beans, all while trying to banish thoughts of blue eyes and melodious voices from his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your support! Hit that kudos button and let me know your thoughts in the comments below!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope that you have all had a fantastic week so far. Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments. It definitely makes me very happy and excited to continue writing the series! Thank you again to Processpending for editing my chapters and hyping me up! Enjoy!

_ Ring _ ! 

At the sound of the bell, Jaskier’s seventh grade general music class picked up their belongings and started to walk out the door. Frantically, Jaskier called out, “Don’t forget to practice your rhythms at home. We are going to combine them into songs next week!” As the last of his student’s walked out of the room, Jaskier quickly picked up his lunch bag and his cell-phone. With a final scan around the room, he shut the door and headed towards the teacher’s lounge. 

It was now the end of the third week of school and Jaskier was pleased at how smoothly his classes were running. Yes, he had a few troublemakers, but overall the children were well-behaved and seemed to like him. Jaskier prided himself on having excellent classroom management skills, but he felt relieved that he had built a rapport with his students. If he was being honest with himself, he had been afraid that he would lose his magic touch without Valdo peering over his shoulder. Without a doubt his success in this new position delighted him, especially since it proved that he could thrive without Valdo.

Jaskier walked quickly through the bustling halls, heading towards his regular table. Although Pris could not regularly join him for lunch, Jaskier still made the effort of eating in the teacher’s lounge. Actually, he had fallen into an unspoken daily routine of eating lunch with Geralt. Sometimes others joined them, like Triss, the school nurse, but usually it was just the two of them. He was trying, and spectacularly failing, at not reading too much into it. 

Just as expected, as he entered the lounge he glanced to the corner and saw that Geralt had already claimed their table. ‘Huh,’ Jaskier wondered, ‘When did I start thinking of it as  _ our  _ table?’ Pushing that thought into the back of his mind, he walked over to the table and said, “Hello Geralt! How is your day going so far?”

Geralt grunted back in response. That was another thing that he had come to expect; Geralt was definitely not a loquacious individual such as himself. Over the weeks, Jaskier had begun to understand and translate his grunts into actual emotions and words. That specific grunt was one of indifference, meaning that it was just a normal day.

He smiled and said, “Well, that’s better than a bad day! Is Charlie still giving you trouble?” Charlie was a seventh grader who refused to do his work in any subject except music. No one could figure out why, but Jaskier was determined to get to the bottom of it. 

Geralt sighed in frustration, “If you mean by trouble, has he started actually doing his work? No. If you mean did I need to send for an administrator, then also a no. He isn’t disturbing the class, he just refuses to  _ do  _ anything.” 

Jaskier frowned as he pulled his lunch out of his bag, considering this information. “Well at least he isn’t being disruptive. I’ll try talking to him again and see if he says anything. He really isn’t a bad kid. I just wish that I knew how to help him.”

Looking back up, he saw Geralt staring intensely at him. Jaskier peered down at himself and straightened his waistcoat, which was black with multi-colored paint splatter. Nothing appeared to be wrong with it, but Geralt was still staring. “Ummm, Geralt? Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?” At the mere suggestion, he scrambled to find a reflective surface to check on his appearance. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Geralt scrunch up his nose, seemingly confused. “What? No. No, I was looking at your lunch. Is - is that all that you bought with you?”

Jaskier looked down in confusion at what he had spread on the table. From what he could tell there was nothing unusual with his lunch. It was his usual meal of an apple and a small salad. Looking back up at Geralt he replied, “Ummm yes? Geralt, this is what I always eat for lunch.” Suddenly, he had a horrifying thought. “Do you not remember? Are you not feeling well?” Immediately, Jaskier got up and felt Geralt’s forehead for any sign of fever. “You don’t feel warm, but maybe we should get Triss as a precaution.” 

Jaskier rose from the table with the intention of finding Triss. He did not get too far before he was stopped by a firm hand on his wrist. “No Jaskier, I feel fine. It’s just that...well, that’s not a lot of food.”

Jaskier’s brow crinkled in confusion as he tried to comprehend Geralt’s words, but the heat of Geralt’s touch muddled his thoughts and made it difficult to stay alert. “Ummm Geralt, this is what I usually eat,” he repeated, unsure what else to say. He had been eating this specific combination of food for lunch for...God, Jaskier couldn’t recall a time when he hadn’t. “I mean, why would I need anything else? I’m not that hungry.”

Geralt shot him a concerned look, but Jaskier could not understand why. Of course Jaskier would eat less than a man like Geralt. Geralt was built like a mountain, so he needed more to eat. It was just logical. Anyways, Jaskier could not eat rich foods like Geralt or he would blow up like a balloon, just like he used to. He just could not grasp why Geralt would humiliate him in the middle of the teacher’s lounge. 

“Maybe I should go,” Jaskier muttered, standing up and gathering his things. Obviously Geralt did not want to watch him gorge himself during lunch anymore. ‘Well, it was nice while it lasted,’ he thought whilst fighting back tears.

“No wait!” Turning his gaze, he found Geralt looking at him with concern shining in his eyes. A shiver of anxiety worked its way up his spine, intensified by the unexpected outburst. “I’m sorry that I brought it up. Why don’t you tell me about your lesson plan for your chorus next period?”

Jaskier examined Geralt for a moment and then lowered himself back into his seat, After taking a deep, calming breath he lost himself in explaining the outline for his next class period. He had hoped to work on the alto section’s harmonies. It was a difficult level piece for children this age, but he had a talented group of kids and believed that they could handle it. Mindlessly talking about his work, he almost did not notice Geralt placing a chocolate chip cookie in front of his empty plate. “Umm Geralt. What is this?”

Geralt looked up from the papers that he had started grading while Jaskier spoke about his lesson plan. “Oh, Ciri made chocolate chip cookies last night. She loves to bake. I brought an extra to share.”

Jaskier felt a cold pit in his stomach just looking at the cookie in front of him. He remembered a time when he was infamous for his sweet tooth, but now he couldn’t imagine eating that entire thing by himself. Eventually, Jaskier glanced up at Geralt who was watching him expectantly. Jaskier knew that he couldn’t refuse the cookie in front of him because Geralt had brought it  _ specifically  _ for him. ‘Well,’ he reasoned with himself, ‘one cookie can’t do that much damage, but after that nothing else.’ With a brittle smile, Jaskier picked up the cookie and took a bite, which was followed by an uncontrollable moan escaping his mouth.

Blushing bright red he began to ramble off an apology, “I am  _ so  _ sorry! That is so embarrassing. I can’t believe I…” but Geralt cut him off. “Don’t worry! Ciri will be glad that her cookies were...enjoyable.”

Peering over the hands covering his face, Jaskier noticed that Geralt was blushing as well.  _ Of course he’s blushing you idiot _ , snarked the voice in his head.  _ You just made a noise straight out of a porno while eating a cookie. This is why you shouldn’t eat things like that. _ Jaskier grimaced into his hands. ‘Great,’ he thought to himself, ‘now Geralt knows how pathetic I am. I should have known that I would fuck it up sooner rather than later.’

The rest of lunch was filled with an awkward silence. When the period was coming to a close, Jaskier practically threw himself out of the lounge to escape the heavy awkwardness that had permeated the air between them. Jogging back to his classroom, he burst through the doors and took a moment to compose himself. “Well, it looks like you’re going to need to find a new place to eat lunch, Jask,” he muttered under his breath as the bell rang and several children ran into his room.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Geralt was humiliated. As he ran back to his classroom through the thankfully empty halls, he desperately tried to think of anything that would calm down his unfortunately timed boner. Finally reaching his classroom, he sat behind his desk and started murmuring anything he could think of to kill the mood. “Vesemir naked. Roach dead. Lambert and Aiden fucking. Hmmm.” After finally getting his boner under control, he reflected on the events that happened at lunch. “Fuck, that went poorly,” he whispered under his breath.

He had spent the past few days figuring out how to coax Jaskier into eating more for weeks, but his inability to keep his libido in check had  _ ruined  _ the plan. To be fair, he hadn’t approached the situation with as much finesse as he could have. A blind man could have seen that Jaskier had been on the verge of panicking when he had brought up the other man’s eating habits. If he had been smart he would have backed off then and there, but Geralt had always been one to tempt fate. In this case, fate came in the form of a baked good. Once he had offered the cookie Jaskier had seemed hesitant to eat, but had eventually taken a bite. That was good. It meant that there was a possibility that Jaskier  _ would  _ eat more under the right circumstances. Maybe he could get the music teacher to eat more; of course, that assumed that Jaskier would ever speak to him again.

Geralt cursed his lack of self-control. He thought that his crush on the other man was manageable, but hearing Jaskier moan with such pleasure had immediately affected him. He had seen the other man panicking, flushed with humiliation, but there was only so much he could do while he was panicking for another highly inappropriate reason. Geralt checked the time and found that he had one more minute before he had to teach gym. As he ran his fingers through his hair, he hoped that Jaskier would give him another chance next Monday, but he would have to wait and see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read my story! If you want to know what Jaskier's waiscoat looks like [ here](https://www.ericdress.com/product/Ericdress-Printed-Paint-Splatters-Mens-Casual-Dress-Suit-Vest-13338411.html?currency=USD&gclid=EAIaIQobChMI2snJ8eXL6gIVStbACh3WLwRqEAQYBSABEgI4aPD_BwE#6477487) is what I based it on. Leave me a comment on what you thought about the chapter. Kudos and comments keep me coming back :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! I hope that you all had a fantastic week! This update is a bit shorter than usual, but I will make up for it next update! Thanks again to Processpending for reading my work! Enjoy!

As Jaskier stepped out of his car, he straightened his crimson waistcoat, bracing himself for the day ahead of him. The music teacher had spent his weekend dissecting everything that had occurred during Friday’s lunch and had come to a distressing conclusion: he could no longer eat lunch with Geralt. It was obvious that the way he gorged himself made the other man uncomfortable, and why shouldn’t it? Geralt was a  _ Health  _ teacher and looked like the peak of male performance. Of course it would disgust him to see Jaskier stuffing himself. Analyzing the situation afterwards, it became clear to Jaskier that the cookie was a test to see how well he could stick to his health routine. Obviously, he had failed miserably, which meant that he was no longer welcome to eat with Geralt.

Upon walking into the building, Jaskier scanned the area before entering the Main Office. Although he had discerned that he was no longer welcome to eat with Geralt, he knew that it would hurt to see him. It was too soon, the wound to his heart too fresh to look upon Geralt’s visage without bringing a wave of tears to his eyes. Even though he kept trying to convince himself otherwise, he was truly heartbroken at the loss of his new normalcy. Geralt’s company had become the high point in his day over the past few weeks, a routine that he could always depend on. The fact that Jaskier had lost a new friend due to his own gluttony had taken a heavier toll than he was willing to admit.

Running into his room, Jaskier slammed the door shut while thanking every deity he knew of that he hadn’t bumped into Geralt. All Jaskier had to do was avoid the silver-haired man for a week or two. At that point, his heart would have healed enough to see him and not breakdown. He was not that bright-eyed, naïve boy anymore; he was under no illusions that Geralt would continue to pursue a friendship with him. Jaskier just needed time for his heart to get that message.

* * *

* * *

* * *

As the bell for sixth period rang, Geralt grabbed his lunch and walked briskly towards the teacher’s lounge. He had spent his entire weekend thinking about the awkward ending to Friday’s lunch. After much deliberation, he had come to the conclusion that the only way to patch things up was to meet for lunch at their regular time and place. He was incredibly nervous as all of the possibilities ran through his head. Of all the possible outcomes one haunted him the most: what if he decided that it was too awkward for them to spend time together? Geralt shook his head in denial. Even if that were the case, Jaskier was too nice to cruelly push him away. Everything would be fine. It had to be.   
That was what he had hoped when he sat down in their normal meeting spot five minutes earlier. ‘You’re overreacting,’ Geralt thought to himself. ‘People are late all the time!’ However, as five minutes became ten minutes, Geralt began to worry that Jaskier was not coming to lunch at all. Running his fingers through his hair, he packed his lunch and left the room.

As he walked out of the room he initially turned in the direction of his classroom, but instead his feet carried him in the opposite direction. Halting his steps, Geralt lightly chastised himself. “Stop it. He obviously does not want to see you,” he murmured under his breath. Regardless of his internal monologue, his feet continued to move towards Jaskier’s room, seemingly drawn towards the other man by another power. ‘I really hope that this isn’t a mistake,’ he thought before he knocked on the closed door. 

* * *

* * *

* * *

Jaskier looked up at the door with a furrow in his brow. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Priscilla had meetings throughout the afternoon and he had no plans. After a moment’s consideration he concluded that it must be a student. With a deep sigh he stood up and straightened his waistcoat. Giving himself one last lookover to ensure that he was presentable, he opened the door. 

To say that he was surprised to see Geralt standing at his door would be the understatement of the century. Jaskier thought that flabbergasted might be the correct word, as he dumbly stared at the taller man with a gaping mouth and wide eyes. Both men stood there for a moment, silently studying each other.

Growing tired of the awkward silence, Jaskier cleared his throat and said, “Ah, Geralt! This is...unexpected.” 

Geralt looked a bit sheepish, but then replied, “Hmmmm...It’s sixth period.” With that, he fell silent once more as he continued to stare into Jaskier’s soul. Jaskier raised his eyebrows, signaling Geralt to continue speaking. The older man sighed and frowned before he began to speak. “I waited for you in the lounge and when you didn’t show I came to find you. Just wanted to make sure that you were...alright.” With a small shrug, Geralt once again fell silent whilst staring at Jaskier.

Jaskier was speechless. Why would Geralt come and find him? Perhaps he had misread the situation, but he could not think of a reason why Geralt would want to eat with him after his egregious action. “I’m alright! I just thought...well, obviously I was wrong. Sorry for the confusion.” Geralt furrowed his brow and gave Jaskier a questioning look. Purposefully ignoring the inquisitive gaze, Jaskier stood aside and gestured into his classroom. “Come in! We can eat here today, if that’s fine with you.”

Geralt relaxed at the invitation and entered the classroom. Jaskier closed the door behind them and pulled up some chairs to a large table in the center of the room. Both men sat down and pulled out their respective lunches, all while trying to ignore the air of tension permeating the room.

As he set out his lunch, Jaskier contemplated what this unexpected visit boded for him. Obviously Geralt was still amenable to eating lunch with him. Otherwise, the silver-haired man wouldn’t have sought him out.  _ Unless he is just too nice to abandon you _ , the Voice hissed in his head. 

To test out his new theory, Jaskier said, “You know, I understand if you have other things to be doing. You can go if you’d like.”

Looking down at the table, Jaskier missed the slight downturn of lips that twisted Geralt’s fine features. Finally, Geralt responded, “Jaskier, it’s sixth period. All I have to do is...eat lunch.”

Jaskier nodded at the blunt, but kind answer. “Right, of course.” Although Geralt’s answer had been affirmative, he could not find the strength to look back up into those molten eyes. 

The room fell silent once more, save for the shuffling noises of Geralt setting out his lunch. Jaskier heard a sigh from across the table and looked up to see Geralt pursing his lips as though he were ready to say something. After a few moments of indecision, Geralt opened his mouth and spoke. “Of course, if my presence makes you feel uncomfortable, I’ll go.”

A pang of hurt rang throughout his chest. It was just like him to cause more hurt than happiness, even with good intentions. “No, no of course not! You’re more than welcome here.” With a small smile, Geralt turned back towards his lunch, but confusion still etched furrows into his handsome features.

At the lack of response, Jaskier surmised that their conversation was over. He turned his attention back to considering Geralt’s response. It was still possible that Geralt was just trying to preserve his feelings, but that option was becoming less and less likely. Geralt’s willingness to sit here with him was palpable. Not only that, but he had refused all the opportunities provided to let him leave gracefully. ‘He must be giving me a second chance,’ Jaskier crowed in his mind. Determined not to fuck it up, Jaskier picked up his fork and started taking small bites of his salad, passing the green leaves through smiling lips.

Although the conversation was more stilted than usual, Jaskier found himself enjoying Geralt’s company. Now that they were on the same page, he was confident that their lunch meetings would be back to normal in no time. At least that was what Jaskier thought until Geralt pulled out a bag of baby carrots and pushed them towards him. 

Taking deep, calming breaths, Jaskier asked, “Geralt, what are you doing?”

Geralt glanced up from his phone and responded, “I wasn’t hungry. You should eat them, I wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”

Although Geralt appeared engrossed in his phone, Jaskier could feel his heavy stare boring into him. Maybe this was part of the test, like the cookies. Jaskier had believed that eating the cookie was what Geralt had wanted him to do, but he had ruined the interaction with his loss of control. That shouldn’t be an issue with baby carrots. No matter how hungry he was, baby carrots were not as delectable as cookies. 

Even with his logical reasoning, he felt compelled to have one last reassurance before taking the leap. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

At the simple response, he nodded and took one of the baby carrots. Placing it in his mouth, he began to chew, glancing nervously over at Geralt. When the other man showed no signs of anger or disgust, he continued to eat. 

Although it went against everything he knew, it appeared that Geralt  _ wanted  _ him to eat more. Even though the idea caused Jaskier to balk, a few baby carrots would not be too detrimental. At least he hoped. Extra food was not a part of his diet, but he would make a few sacrifices to stay in Geralt’s good graces. Smiling, Jaskier took another carrot and placed it in his mouth. ‘Maybe I won’t fuck this up,” contemplated Jaskier as Geralt shot him a shy smile. ‘That would be nice.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't I'm already five chapters in! Thank you so much for sticking with me all of this time. If you're interested, [here](https://images.app.goo.gl/KShLEaqwiJ6iXRNG9) is the waistcoat that I imagined Jaskier wearing. Honestly, half the fun of writing this fic is looking up waistcoats! Comment and kudos below if you are enjoying the content!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier starts to spiral...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello gorgeous followers! I am posting a few hours earlier than usual, because I am impatient and you all deserve chapters ASAP. Thank you for staying with me this long. This chapter was really difficult to write, but I hope that you enjoy it. Thanks again to Processpending who has been putting up with my nagging for weeks. I hope you enjoy! Note: This chapter could be triggering for eating disorders and body image issues. You have been warned!

“Fuck!” Jaskier cried out as looked in the mirror. As he stared back at his reflection, he took a deep calming breath to keep the panic forming in the pit of his stomach at bay. It had to be a mistake. The pants must have shrunk in the dryer. With that reassuring thought he renewed his efforts to button his pants. After several more fruitless attempts to make the flaps of fabric meet, he finally gave up with a small sob, allowing the two sides to fall apart.

For the life of him, he could not understand how this had happened. He had been sticking to his diet...mostly. Jaskier grimaced at that white lie, because he knew it was empirically untrue. Truthfully, he had been eating  _ quite _ a bit more than usual because of Geralt. Honestly, Jaskier had thought the extra food was negligible, but his reflection was telling him otherwise. 

Pursing his lips, Jaskier reflected on the past few months. It was the beginning of October. Nearly two months had passed since he began eating lunch with Geralt and one month since Geralt started offering him extra food. After the Cookie Incident, which is what Jaskier privately called it, things had gotten back to normal between them. The only difference was that Geralt had started to bring extra food with him to lunch. The type of food changed daily. Sometimes he brought an extra bag of chips that his daughter no longer wanted to eat. Once it was an entire pizza left over from a party he had thrown his health class. When Jaskier had commented on Geralt feeding his  _ health  _ class pizza, he had responded, “Pizza is fine in moderation, which was part of the lesson. I’m teaching them healthy habits, Jaskier, not to avoid junk food altogether.”

If Jaskier was honest with himself, hearing Geralt say that hit a little too close to home. Now looking back, Jaskier noticed that Geralt talked a lot about how junk food was fine in moderation.  _ The message must have gotten lost in translation, because you ate the junk food, but obviously not in moderation _ , the Voice hissed at him. 

Jaskier hated that the Voice was right. He had eaten  _ three  _ slices of the pizza that day. After that, he had found himself snacking on whatever Geralt put in front of him. Some days it was something not too damaging, like the baby carrots from the day after the Cookie Incident. Other days he would bring in a homemade pie for the teacher’s lounge or leftover cake from Ciri’s birthday, and everyday Geralt would offer him a slice with puppy dog eyes. He had tried to refuse the first few times, but Geralt would look so sad at his denial, Eventually, he decided that saying yes was the best option. He liked making Geralt happy and it also ensured that Geralt would have no reason to question their newly budding friendship.

_ Looks like your desperation to be loved made it so you will never be _ , the Voice snidely commented. Jaskier gazed into the mirror and conceded that the Voice was right. Even if one were generous and ignored his inability to button his pants, the waistcoat on his top half accentuated the curve of his stomach. Holding back tears, he rushed towards the bathroom where he kept his scale. 

The scale sat unassumingly in the corner of the small room, collecting dust due to disuse.  _ Maybe if you had used it more this wouldn’t be happening right now. _ With that depressing commentary Jaskier stepped on the scale. 

At first, he could not bear to open his eyes. Fear gripped his heart like a vice. Taking a deep breath, Jaskier opened his eyes to look down at the numbers showing on the screen. 




Jaskier blinked, stepped off of the scale, and tried again. The same number flashed on the screen. “Fuck!” Jaskier could barely breathe as he stepped off of the scale and lowered himself onto the floor. The scale had to be broken. There is no way that he had put over 40 pounds in a month. 

_ It wasn’t just a month, was it though? _ The Voice chuckled in his mind. _ You weren’t staying strictly on your diet before Geralt started to ruin you. It’s been months, Julian. _

Jaskier replayed the months after he left Valdo. It was true that he had been on the heavier side of his dieting weight when he left Valdo. Then he had spent some nights with Pris where she had coaxed him into eating more than he should have. He had tried to protest, but she had fixed him with a glare, silencing his protests. Some days he might have bought the odd Snickers bar at the gas station, but he hadn’t been that bad. He shouldn’t have failed this badly. 

Grasping at his hair, he checked his wristwatch. ‘Damn,’ he thought. There was no way he was going to make it to work on time. Even with that looming over him, Jaskier could not find the strength to stand. He was a failure. How was he going to face his students? How was he going to face Geralt? Jaskier started to breathe faster, hugging his knees and shutting his eyes. He was meant to be a role model for his kids, yet here he was unable to do the simplest of tasks.

After an indeterminate amount of time passed, Jaskier looked at his wristwatch again. He was  _ seriously  _ late. He really needed to call the school. Placing his hands on the floor, Jaskier hoisted himself up and walked towards the bedroom. 

Upon reaching his bedside table he unplugged his cell phone and dialed the number of the school. After two rings, Betty, the secretary, answered. “Redania Middle School, how can I help you?”

Jaskier took a deep breath and cheerfully replied, “Hi Betty, it’s Jaskier. I was feeling a bit under the weather and it’s causing me to run a little late. I am so sorry for the late notice, but if you could find someone to cover my morning duties, I should be on time for first period.”

Betty gasped. “My goodness! Are you alright? I could try to find a sub for your classes if you’re not feeling well. You don’t sound like yourself, Jaskier.”

Jaskier blushed and stuttered out, “N-no, no, I am truly feeling better. I am so sorry for causing all this trouble. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Alright,” replied Betty in a tone belying her disbelief of Jaskier’s reassurances. “I will see you soon then!”

With that, Jaskier hung up the phone. His first task was done, but now came the hardest part. Jaskier had to find an outfit that actually fit him.

Frantically looking at his wristwatch, Jaskier noted that he only had ten minutes to change if he was going to make it for first period. Jaskier dashed towards his closet, throwing the doors wide open. He perused his clothes and cursed his proclivity towards form fitting, colorful waistcoats. Of course he only owns clothes that he looks good in once every five years. “Stupid,” Jaskier curses under his breath. 

Letting out a sigh, Jaskier grabbed a box from the back of his closet. He had hoped that the occasion for reopening this box would never arise, but he had underestimated his resolve. The box contained several pairs of pants of varying sizes and some sweater vests. Jaskier recalled Valdo presenting him with his first sweater vest. “Just until you lose the weight, darling. Then you can go back to your...colorful waistcoats. I just don’t want you to embarrass yourself by wearing ill-fitting clothing.” Pulling out a maroon sweater vest and a pair of pants a size up, Jaskier moved towards the mirror to change. 

Jaskier wanted to cry when he took off his waistcoat in lieu of a sweater vest. It almost felt like he was giving up. ‘No, stop it! You’re not giving up, Jask. It’s only for a little while. Once you get back in shape, you can wear them again.’ With that reassuring thought, Jaskier finished pulling on his clothes and turned a discerning eye towards his reflection. 

His hair actually looked decent. That was surprising, given that he spent most of the morning raking his fingers through it. 'I’ve always looked good with sex hair,' Jaskier thought smugly, before turning his attention to the rest of him. His eyes and face were red and puffy from his bouts of crying, but with a splash of water it should be fixable. Steeling his nerves, Jaskier looked at the rest of him. The pants were a little more snug than he would like, but he refused to go up another size. Luckily, the sweater vest was less revealing of his shortcomings than the waistcoat. Anyone could see that he had put on weight by looking closely, but it was the best that he could do. Unfortunately for him, it was impossible to hide hideousness with clothing.

Taking another look at his watch, Jaskier realized he only had one more minute, even with the extra time afforded to him. “Fuck, my contacts!” Growling under his breath, Jaskier walked towards his bedside table and grabbed his glasses. He didn’t have time to put in his contacts if he wanted to make it in time for his first period class. With a resigned air, he put on his glasses. It was bad enough that he was fat, but now he also had to wear his glasses. He would be lucky to make it through the day without becoming the laughing stock of the school. With one final glance towards the mirror, Jaskier rushed out the front door.

Upon reaching the school, Jaskier sprinted to the main office, dodging children who were spilling into the building. Bursting through the front doors, he approached the sign in sheet with his pen at the ready. Betty looked up from her computer before scanning her eyes over Jaskier’s person. “Jaskier, are you sure you’re well? You look pale. Maybe you should go to see Triss.”

“I am fine, Betty. Thank you for the concern,” curtly replied Jaskier as he quickly walked towards his classroom. Normally he would spend a few minutes speaking with the secretary, as he enjoyed her company and caring demeanor, but today he was short on both time and patience. He realized that he might have been a tad rude to Betty, but he did not have the energy to deal with her coddling today.

Jaskier entered his classroom whilst shucking off his bag and jacket. He only had one minute to prepare the room for his class. Scurrying around, he barely noticed his phone ringing off the hook. ‘I’ll check it later,’ Jaskier thought, irritated at the bell simultaneously ringing to announce the start of the day. However as his attention became consumed by his classes, Jaskier forgot about the phone call, leaving him wholly unprepared for Pris to barge into his room during his fourth period prep. Startled and on edge, Jaskier shot out of his chair, prepared to run for it. Once he registered it was Pris, he sighed and settled back down into his chair. “What the fuck, Pris? You scared the shit out of me!” 

Pris gave him a discerning scan. “You’re wearing your glasses. You never wear your glasses unless you are having a shitty day or you are sick. Triss told me that she heard that you are sick, so why are you sitting at your desk?”

Jaskier swallowed his fear before replying to Pris. “What do you mean Triss told you? I haven’t seen Triss all day. Don’t you have something better to be doing, like your job?”

She stalked over to his desk. “Don’t pull that shit with me. It won’t work because I’ve known you too long. Betty told Triss who then called me because we are friends. What is going on? Are you alright? Did something happen with your piece of shit ex-boyfriend? I swear to God, Jask....”

Jaskier cut her off before she got too deep into her rant. “No, nothing’s the matter Pris. I haven’t seen Valdo and everything is fine. I was just feeling a bit under the weather this morning, but I’m fine now.” He hated lying to Pris, but it wasn’t a complete lie. This morning’s revelations had shaken him to his core, but he was feeling better now that he had begun to formulate a plan. 

Pris stared him down with eyes that would make a lesser man turn to stone. “Okay, say I believe you. Why are you wearing a maroon sweater vest? You  _ hate _ maroon because you think that it makes you look pale.”

Jaskier felt cold fear grip his heart. Pris didn’t know everything about Valdo, but she knew Jaskier better than anyone. If he told her the truth about his anxieties she would help him without hesitation. She would move heaven and earth to try and comfort him. That being said, it would also be distressing to her. After thinking over his options he knew the path that he had to choose. For both of their sakes. Even though every bit of him longed to tell her everything. Pris deserved to be happy and he refused to be the reason for her dimmed smile.

“Pris, I really am fine. Don’t worry about me, love. I’m a grown adult, I can take care of myself.” Jaskier nodded, indicating the conclusion of the conversation. 

Pris sighed and took his hand into her own. “Yes, but you don’t have to. I’ll let you get back to your work, but please, call me.” Turning to leave the room, she stopped and swung back around. “By the way, you are wrong about maroon and the glasses. You look like a sexy librarian.” With a small smirk, she left the room.

A wry smile on his face worked its way onto his face as he watched the door swing shut “A sexy librarian,” he muttered to himself. Jaskier shook his head, turning his attention back towards his papers. 

The next few periods passed in a blur and before Jaskier knew it, sixth period had arrived. “Damn it,” exclaimed Jaskier, feeling the dredges of panic creeping up on him. His favorite and worst time of day. Any other day he would be thrilled to see Geralt, but after the events of this morning he knew that their routine would have to change. He could no longer appease Geralt by eating the food that was brought to him. Their lunches would also be further complicated by having to hide his general appearance from the other man until things were put to right. God, this was frustrating. 

Grabbing his lunch bag, Jaskier made his way towards the teacher’s lounge. He entered the room and found Geralt waiting for him in their usual corner. After straightening his spine and taking a deep breath, Jaskier plastered a smile on his face and headed towards his seat. “Good afternoon, Geralt! How are you doing?”

Geralt tilted his head up, seemingly to reply, when his face morphed into an expression of surprise. After a moment of silence, he spoke. “You wear glasses?”

Jaskier froze, internally cursing himself for forgetting to take them off before entering the room. With lightning speed, he removed the glasses from his face, folding them carefully before placing them on the table. Jaskier chuckled nervously and ran his hand through his hair. “Ummm yeah, I do unfortunately. I usually only wear them at home. Don’t want to look like an old man and all, you know what I mean?”

Geralt was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat. “They suit you. Y-you should wear them more often.”

Jaskier was speechless. The only people who had told him that he looked good in glasses were Pris and his sister. Even in school they had become something for bullies to latch onto when making fun of him. That trend only continued with Valdo who had hated his glasses. The first time that he had worn them in the house Valdo had sneered and told him to take them off because they “marred his beautiful face.” Jaskier had just gotten used to walking around partially blind when he ran out of his contacts. It was better than adding to his hideousness. 

“T-thank you, Geralt. That’s very kind of you to say, but I’ll be back to contacts tomorrow. I was just running a bit late this morning and didn’t have time to put them in.” Jaskier fell silent with a small smile and unpacked his lunch box.

Geralt nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we all have those mornings. I get it.”   
Jaskier had to hold back his dark laughter, because there was no way Geralt had ever been late to work because he was too fat for his clothes. In lieu of responding to Geralt’s comment, Jaskier took a bite of his apple.

Geralt frowned, looking at Jaskier’s side of the table. “Where’s your salad, Jask?”

Jaskier frowned at the line of questioning, not looking forward to dodging his inquiries. “I just thought I’d try something different today.” He held up a small jar of peanut butter with a spoon in it. Geralt’s brow furrowed even deeper, but Jaskier was too busy trying to eat his lunch to notice. 

Once he finished his apple, he looked back up at Geralt to find him holding a container of what appeared to be a stew of some kind. Panic thrummed through his veins. He knew what he had to do. Jaskier  _ knew  _ that he had to refuse Geralt’s gift, but by doing so he risked their friendship.

Before Geralt could even get a word edgewise, Jaskier cut him off. “No thank you, Geralt. I really appreciate it, but I am not hungry.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the remaining apple core on the table. “You’re not hungry,” Geralt parroted back with a note of disbelief in his voice.

“No! I mean, yes! I am not hungry.” Staring into Geralt’s eyes, Jaskier held his ground, imbuing his stare with all the courage he had. 

“Okay,” replied Geralt. He grabbed the container and put it back in his bag. “If you aren’t hungry, I won’t force you to eat. Do you understand, Jask?”

Jaskier shivered from a combination of the leftover adrenaline rushing through his body and the knowing look in Geralt’s eye. ‘There’s no way he knows how pathetic I am,’ Jaskier desperately thought while examining his prior actions. He was just imagining things. 

Swallowing down his anxiety, Jaskier found himself speechless. Nodding, he grabbed his bag and waved goodbye to the other man. After returning to his room, Jaskier smiled to himself. He had done it. He had told Geralt no and the other man had accepted it. Maybe they could still be friends after all. Sinking down to the floor, Jaskier hugged his knees and took a few deep breaths. It would all be alright. He just had to stick to the plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Please don't murder me! It will all end well, there's just a bumpy road before we get to that part. If you want to see Jask's new sweater vest, [ here ](https://images.app.goo.gl/yMFM8tcEbk76mN5B7) is the image I used when writing. Comment below on what you think and I'll see y'all in a few days!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt has a light bulb moment!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! I hope that you had an awesome week and that you are all staying safe. Thank y'all for continuing to read my work! I would also like to thank Processpending for proofreading yet another chapter of this work. I hope you enjoy!

Geralt was concerned. Very concerned.

Something was wrong with Jaskier, and unfortunately, he had a guess as to what the issue might be. Geralt rubbed his hands over his head, soothing the headache building between his eyes. God, he would kill for an aspirin right about now.

He pulled out his phone to check the time, finding that he had five minutes until the next period began. Good. He needed a moment to contemplate what had happened during lunch. Pacing in his room, Geralt recalled the past 30 minutes, hoping beyond hope that his assumptions were wrong.

The entire lunch had started off on the wrong foot. Geralt knew that he was not the best with words, but even he had known that his blunt acknowledgement of Jaskier’s glasses was a mistake. It could not have been a coincidence that the younger man had chosen to forego the accoutrements for the two months that they had known each other, but Geralt was thankful that he had. It was difficult enough to keep his attraction to Jaskier secret on a normal day, but the difficulty intensified when he wore those frames.

Geralt pictured Jaskier’s blushing face as he set his glasses on the table. Honestly, Geralt had not known that glasses could look so sexy on a person, but on Jaskier it just worked. 

Although upon further consideration Geralt was unsurprised. Jaskier could probably wear a canvas bag and still look gorgeous. 

As a matter of fact, Jaskier’s entire outfit really worked for him. The glasses paired with the sweater vest made him look like a sexy teacher from a porno. Although he missed the crazy waistcoats, Geralt loved his new look. It didn’t hurt that his pants stretched sinfully over his ass, showing off his round globes.

Geralt growled at himself as his mind swayed towards dangerous territory. He had to remind himself that Jaskier was only a co-worker. It was at best unprofessional, and at worst perverted to think of his fellow teacher in such a way. He really needed to stop being such a lecherous asshole. After his self-chastisement, Geralt continued to think back on their lunch. 

To say that Geralt had been completely blind to Jaskier’s food issues would be a lie. Geralt taught health class to teenagers for fucks sake! He knew the signs of an eating disorder better than most men his age. However, Geralt had ignored the signs. He had made excuses for the music teacher, often brushing the other’s small meals off as an inability to cook well or a crazy diet, but after today’s lunch he had no doubt that there was something else going on here. The problem was determining how deep this problem went.

Geralt considered himself to be logical and a good tactician. One doesn’t spend years in the Marines without developing the ability to strategize under pressure. Although his current circumstances differed from that of a warzone, Geralt knew that he would have to put his skills to work to help his colleague. 

At that moment the bell rang, causing Geralt to jump in surprise. Fuck, it had been five minutes! Grabbing his keys, Geralt burst through the door and headed towards the boy’s locker room. 

Upon arriving at the lockers he bellowed, “Five minutes and then out to the gym for warmups!” Satisfied that his job description of scary gym teacher had been fulfilled he entered the gym office to further consider his options.

Jaskier’s expression when he declined the beef stew offered to him said it all; he had been terrified. At first, Geralt thought that the music teacher was afraid of him, but after a moment's consideration he retracted that thought. The past few months of interactions started to make more sense: the tiny meals, his resistance to accepting extra food, the self-deprecating comments. It all added up to a possible eating disorder.

Geralt really hoped that he was overexaggerating, but something in his gut told him that he was not. Jaskier needed help. It was obvious that he was a nervous man. Anyone who met him could tell by interacting with him. Loud noises scared him and he had trouble meeting new people. If Geralt were being honest with himself, that is probably what drew him to the musician; Jaskier reminded him of himself after returning from Afghanistan.

Geralt tried to forget about his tour with the Marines, pushing it towards the recesses of his mind, but seeing Jaskier’s interactions with the world reminded him of his own return stateside. That had been almost a decade ago at this point, but he could recognize the signs of trauma. Jaskier did not seem to be a soldier, but he had surely won a war of some kind.

Noting that most of the kids were heading into the gym, Geralt set aside his thoughts for later. Right now he had a job to do.

Entering the gym, Geralt blew on his whistle. “Start with ten laps around the gym. Go!”

He watched as the kids groaned and started their daily exercise. He scanned the room and spotted Cindy Purcell and her clique sitting on the bleachers, still dressed in their jeans and glittery shirts. Geralt sighed in frustration as he made his way across the gym to compel them to change for class.

As Geralt got closer, he heard tidbits of their conversation. “I mean he is just so hot! Did you see the glasses that he wore today? Ugh! And his eyes! Maybe I can marry him someday.” All the girls surrounding Cindy giggled in agreement.

“Oh yeah, Mr. Pankratz is so cute. He might be the hottest teacher this school has ever seen,” replied one of the other girls. 

‘Jesus Christ,’ Geralt thought. ‘I can’t believe I’m having the same fantasies as a teenage girl.’ Clearing his throat, Geralt announced his presence to the group of girls seated in front of him. They turned towards him slowly, seemingly unnerved by his presence. Sometimes he thought that teenage girls were scarier than any armed militants he had encountered. “Cindy. You do realize that you will  _ fail _ gym if you do not get changed and participate.”

Cindy stood up and returned his gaze without a hint of fear. “Yeah, maybe I’ll fail but I won’t get sweaty.” With that she turned her back to him, continuing her conversation about Jaskier.

“I mean, his smile is so incredible! And when he talks to you, it feels like he gets you, ya know?”

Geralt rolled his eyes and moved so he was blocking Cindy’s view. “I also have to warn you that if this conversation were to get anymore graphic, I would have to call an administrator to discuss consequences. See that it stays clean.” With that he returned to the middle of the gym to lead his students in their warm-ups.

This was not the first time that he had caught his students discussing which teachers were the hottest, nor will it be the last. Geralt understood that these kids were just hitting puberty and were horny as hell, but he hated hearing those conversations. It probably did not help that they were often discussing him. Looked like he had competition. ‘At least they have good taste,’ he thought as he lowered himself to the floor to lead the group in push-ups.

The rest of the day was busy, leaving him little time to contemplate Jaskier’s plight until he got home. Unfortunately for him, Ciri had no after school activities that afternoon and had met him at the car. Although he loved spending time with his daughter he needed time to think and Ciri was incorrigible. 

“Soooo,” Ciri crooned into his ear. “I heard that Mr. Pankratz was wearing glasses today.”

Geralt scrunched his nose in confusion. “Where did you hear that and why are you telling me about it?”

Ciri smirked in response to his questions giving him a knowing look. She really needed to stop doing that. It was unnerving.

Geralt sighed, while still keeping his eyes on the road. “Yes, he was wearing glasses today. Why do you ask?”

Ciri crowed in triumph, nearly startling Geralt enough to crash the car. “I KNEW IT! You do pay attention to him!”

“It was just glasses. It’s hard to ignore someone’s face when you eat lunch with them.” Hoping that she would drop the subject, Geralt turned the radio to Ciri’s favorite channel.

Ciri immediately shut the radio off with an exaggerated gasp. “What?! You eat lunch together! When did this happen?”

“Months ago, Ciri. Now can we please drop the subject?”

Ciri slouched into her seat and there was silence for a solid minute. “I’ve heard that Mr. Pankratz looks very hot with glasses. He picked on a girl to answer a question and she was so frazzled that she just stuttered and then ran out of the room.”

Geralt snorted at that. Yes, Jaskier was very attractive, but he was not the best at picking up on flirtatious cues. His inability to pick up on flirting was evidenced whenever Triss ate lunch with them. The poor woman kept batting her eyelashes at the blue-eyed man, but he was completely oblivious. He probably thought that he had scared the poor girl, because she didn’t know the question. Geralt would definitely be bringing this up at some point, but honestly didn’t know how Jaskier would react to this information. ‘Maybe it’s for the best  _ not  _ to bring it up,’ he pondered.

“Is that why you’re so distracted right now? Mr. Pankratz’ glasses?” Ciri gently prodded his arm, trying to goad him into talking.

To his surprise, Ciri’s evil methods actually worked. Seemingly without his consent, he said, “Yes.”

They both blinked in surprise for one blessedly silent moment before Ciri started to cheer. “YES DAD, GET IT!”

Geralt shook his head with a grumble while he pulled into their driveway. “Ciri, stop it!”

“Oh hell no! This is the best news I’ve gotten in months! You have a crush,” Ciri replied in a sing-song voice, while pointing at her blushing father.

Dragging his hands down his face, he sighed in frustration. There was no way that he would ever live this down. Grabbing Ciri’s arm to get her attention, he spoke. “Fine, yes you’re right, but Ciri you can’t tell any of your classmates about this. He is my co-worker and if this were to leak out without me speaking to him first it would be very awkward. Do you understand?”

Ciri nodded her head with an air of maturity that did not match her young age. “Yes, dad, I understand.” After a moment, she started jumping up and down in her seat. “Maybe you should tell him! Or flirt with him! Imagine the two hottest teachers in school getting together! It would be like a fairytale!”

Rolling his eyes, Geralt stepped out of the car and headed towards the front door of his house. “Ciri, it’s your day to prepare dinner! Get started and I’ll be out of my room soon.” Without waiting to hear her reply, Geralt walked into the house and towards his room.

Upon entering his space, Geralt heavily sat on the foot of his bed. What to do about Jaskier? By all accounts, Geralt should stay out of it. Jaskier is a grown man and has Pris to help him out. There was also the high possibility that Geralt was seeing problems where none existed. Maybe he was self-projecting.

With a shake of his head, Geralt sighed. No, he knew that he wasn’t exaggerating, but how should he approach this? Looking back on the past two months, Geralt knew that Jaskier had begun to eat more. Up until today, Jaskier accepted any extra food that Geralt brought with him. Something must have happened for that pattern to stop. 

Geralt thought deeply as he began to pace the room. Something must have happened between yesterday afternoon and today’s lunch, but what? He needed more information. Maybe today was just a bad day? Returning to his spot on the bed, Geralt folded his arms and came to a decision. He would keep an eye on Jaskier’s eating habits. He would continue to offer him food, but would not be as insistent. If he kept on refusing to eat, then he would come back to the drawing board.

Nodding his head in satisfaction, Geralt left his room and headed towards the kitchen. He hoped that Jaskier would eat tonight, but right now Ciri was his priority.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geralt might be a himbo, but he's a good health teacher! Let me know your thoughts in the comments section below and smash that kudos button! See you guys next week :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension grows...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! Thank you for staying with me this long. All of you guys are awesome and my heart swells every time I read your kind comments and see your kudos. Thanks again to Processpending, an accomplished writer and beta. I hope that y'all enjoy!

Jaskier stared at his reflection in the mirror, discontent etched into the features of his face. Turning to get a better angle, he huffed an irritated sigh and walked towards his bed. It wasn’t working fast enough.

He knew that he was being impatient. It had only been a week since he realized how much he had let himself go and he had been doing very well on his diet, but it just wasn’t enough. In two and half weeks it would be Halloween, his favorite holiday, which meant that he would have to wear a costume to school. A shiver worked his way up his spine while thinking of how horribly his costumes would cling to his figure. Even with an intensive training schedule he would not be back in shape for Halloween, a fact that left him despondent. Frowning, he went back to the drawing board. 

Instinctually, he knew that signing up for a gym membership was his next course of action. He had heard from others at work that a local gym provided discounts to teachers within their school district. The sooner he got back in shape the better. Halloween meant that Thanksgiving was around the corner, which meant that he would have to see his mother. 

Jaskier shuddered at the thought. Although he loved his mother dearly and had a good relationship with her throughout his childhood, that all changed when he became a teenager. That was around the time that he started asking questions that she could not answer and rebelling against her dreams of him taking over his father’s company. It was also around the time that his weight had begun to fluctuate, something which displeased his mother greatly. His mother had spent the majority of his childhood trying the newest fad diet, obsessed with her own image. One of his first memories was of his mother inspecting herself in the mirror and frowning. He had barrelled into her legs and hugged them tight. “You’re pretty, Mama,” he had said with a smile on his face that only brightened when she chuckled and lifted him up. He wished that things had stayed that simple.

Instead, her words turned cruel as he grew older and wider. “Maybe you should try out for track, honey! It’s a fantastic way to burn calories.” It became common practice for her to criticize the foods he ate, especially if she deemed them unhealthy. He recalled one time when they had gone out for dinner when he was fifteen. The waitress had brought bread to the table and Jaskier had tried to take some for himself. His mother had immediately intervened with a swat of the wrist and a disapproving expression. “No bread for you. It won’t do you any favors.”

Jaskier sighed at the memories. He knew that his mother loved him, but she could be overly critical of his appearance. If he showed up at home for Thanksgiving looking like this, he knew that he would be in for an earful. It would just be easier to slim down before the holidays began. 

The music teacher stood up and walked towards his closet. After grabbing his sneakers and gym clothes, Jaskier walked out of his room towards the kitchen. It was decided; he would go to the local gym after school and workout. Picking up his lunch bag and keys, he headed to his car with some pep in his step. Things were finally starting to go his way.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Geralt waited for Jaskier to enter the teacher’s lounge, using this time to analyze the information that he had collected. He was now positive that Jaskier had an eating disorder. Rubbing his hands down his face, Geralt went over the evidence he had.

First, Jaskier barely ate anything. Initially, Geralt thought that Jaskier’s lunches were smaller than his other meals, but his hopes were shattered three days prior.

They had both been sitting at the lunch table, conversing about their plans for after school. Geralt had said, “I was thinking of making chicken parmigiana with spaghetti for dinner tonight. Ciri loves Italian food. What about you? Any plans for dinner?”

Jaskier had frozen for a moment. His eyes drifted towards the table before answering quietly. “Ummm no, not really. I’ll probably whip up a salad or something.” After his non-answer, Jaskier expertly changed the topic by babbling on about  _ Hamilton  _ and the connection between Angelica’s wit and her fast-paced rapping. Geralt was left in the dust, stumbling to keep up with the new topic. Later, Geralt realized that Jaskier was a master of distraction.

Second, Jaskier had stopped taking any extra food that was offered to him and this did not apply to only Geralt. While he kept on offering him food during their lunches, Jaskier always politely declined. One day, Triss joined them at their table and pushed a brownie towards Jaskier. The other man had looked down in confusion. “What’s this, Triss?”

She had giggled while Geralt rolled his eyes. Honestly, the woman was trying so hard to win Jaskier’s affections and it was nauseating to watch. At least that’s what Geralt kept telling himself; the emotion digging itself deeper and deeper into his chest was not jealousy, because he had nothing to be jealous of. As these thoughts raced through his head, Triss finally responded with a small, teasing smile. “It’s a brownie. Haven’t you seen one before?”

Jaskier’s face shifted into a grimace before his normally cheerful expression was plastered back onto his face. Geralt doubted that anyone else had seen this slip up, but he had. Regardless, Jaskier pasted a smile back on and replied with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Why of course! But Triss, we are at work! This isn’t the place to be supplying...brownies.” Jaskier punctuated the last word with a roguish smile and a suggestive tone of voice. Triss broke into laughter as Jaskier continued. “Anyways, we wouldn’t want to offend the sensibilities of the Health teacher sitting next to us! Did you never receive D.A.R.E training, you naughty girl?”

With Jaskier’s jokes filling the air, the brownie itself was forgotten. It wasn’t until they all got up to leave that Geralt noticed that Jaskier had not eaten it or taken it with him.

The final clue was the music teacher’s overall lack of energy. Over the past few days Jaskier seemed to wilt in front of him. Vibrant was normally the word he would use to describe the younger man, but nowadays Jaskier’s energy had dimmed significantly. Geralt would admit that Jaskier put up an incredible front and at times almost had him fooled, but he had come to know the other man very well over the past two and half months and could tell that he was tired. It was in the way that he slightly slumped in his chair during lunch and the way he would space out during conversations. It seemed so obvious to Geralt that he honestly could not understand how others did not see it.

Geralt was jolted out of his contemplation when Jaskier sat down across from him. “You seem deep in thought. What’s rolling around your head, Geralt? Anything interesting?” Jaskier gave him a playful look as he set out his lunch. Geralt held back a sigh when he saw it was just an apple and peanut butter. Again.

Searching for an excuse and coming up empty, Geralt blurted out, “Nothing.”

Jaskier paused and quirked an eyebrow. “You were thinking hard about...nothing?”

Geralt blushed and started praying for a quick and sudden accident to strike him down. It seemed that anytime he spoke to Jaskier his ability to sound semi-intelligent vanished. “Hmmm. No, I meant that it was nothing important. Just going over lesson plans.”

Jaskier held his stare for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “Alright then. Must be some interesting lessons. Starting a new topic?”

Geralt breathed out a sigh of relief before responding to Jaskier’s question. “We are starting tennis today in gym and the reproduction unit in health.”

Jaskier’s face twists into a grimace. “Geralt, I am so impressed by your ability to speak to pubescents about sex. Honestly, I could never do that. They are all so...imaginative at this age.” Flailing his hands, Jaskier fell silent.

Geralt smirked at the other man. “Yes, they certainly are. I hear them fantasizing about their crushes in the locker rooms and bleachers. It’s horrifying.”

Jaskier eyes gleamed with interest. “Oh ho, now I need to hear this! Any names pop up frequently? My bet is on Timoth ée Chalamet.”

Geralt thought back to his conversation with Cindy a week prior. There was no way that he could tell Jaskier that he was a popular topic. If the man was blushing now then he would probably have a heart attack at this revelation. Instead, Geralt said, “Unfortunately, mine.” Taking a bite of his club salad, he waited for Jaskier’s response.

Jaskier’s face went through the full span of emotions within the span of a few seconds. His expression ended in complete, unadulterated amusement, with his melodic laugh filling the room. “Yes, I could see how that would be embarrassing, but congratulations. You’re officially a TILF!” After a moment of contemplation, Jaskier added, “Actually, you are also a DILF. I wonder if they make awards for dual membership?”

Geralt just shook his head at Jaskier’s antics. Even though being desired by his students was uncomfortable, he was glad that Jaskier found joy in his misery. The younger man had a lovely laugh.

It took five minutes for Jaskier to calm down enough to eat his apple. Geralt watched carefully, waiting until the apple was gone to make his move. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out some baby carrots. 

Jaskier looked at him with a tired expression on his face, knowing what was about to happen. Geralt looked at him, trying to appear casual. “Would you like some baby carrots?”

Jaskier looked at Geralt for a moment with his face blank of emotion. “What do you think I am going to say, Geralt?”

Geralt sighed and slipped the carrots back into his bag. “Okay. That’s alright, I was just checking.”

Jaskier stayed silent, staring intensely at Geralt for a few moments before abruptly standing up. “I need to finish preparing for my next class. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, Jaskier left the room.

“Fuck,” whispered Geralt under his breath. That had gone horribly. Gathering his belongings, he returned to his classroom and tried to figure out how he could help Jaskier. Perhaps it was time to return to the drawing board, because this strategy was obviously not working. 

* * *

* * *

* * *

Jaskier returned to his classroom incredibly upset. It just was not fair! He was trying so hard to stay on his diet and Geralt kept trying to sabotage him by pushing food at him. Jaskier took a deep, cleansing breath before trying to pull himself back together. Rationally he knew that Geralt could not be doing this from a place of malice. His colleague was a kind and caring man underneath his imposing demeanor. He would never be that cruel purposefully. At least that was what Jaskier believed, but as history had shown he was not always the best at reading people. If he was then he would have never ended up in that situation with Valdo. 

At that moment his stomach grumbled in protest. “Oh, shut up and stop complaining, you asshole,” Jaskier shouted angrily, immediately looking around to ensure that no one had heard him screaming at himself. After ensuring that no one had heard his outburst, he grabbed his water bottle and drank deeply to fill his empty stomach. Clenching his other fist, Jaskier contemplated Geralt’s strange behavior at lunch. He had obviously been lying when pressed into talking about his thoughts. Jaskier was not under the illusion that Geralt  _ had  _ to tell him anything, but it made him curious. What was he hiding?

Before Valdo, Jaskier would have pestered the man until he told the truth, but life had cruelly taught him that patience was often the safer route. If Geralt wanted to keep secrets, he was entitled to do so. It didn’t matter that it made Jaskier anxious. It was not Geralt’s fault that Jaskier was a mess and overly paranoid around people. It was not his fault that Jaskier thought that anyone could be a threat, that Geralt could be a threat. Jaskier twiddled his thumbs and immediately negated that thought. He was just being paranoid, nothing else.

Trying to think of happier topics, he thought back to Geralt’s embarrassment about his students’ crushes on him. Honestly, Jaskier could not blame the kids; Geralt was hot. It was an objective fact of life. The students of the school were lucky to have such eye-candy to fuel their hormone driven years. Jaskier was certain that none of his teachers had been nearly as young or attractive. Jaskier thanked God that he was not the focus of his student’s...affections. That was one positive about looking hideous. None of his kids have a crush on me. One less thing for him to worry about.

Turning his thoughts back to Geralt, Jaskier sighed in frustration. He would just have to tell Geralt that he was on a diet and politely ask him to stop bringing him extra food for a while. Maybe after he reached his target weight and survived the holidays he could indulge on occasion. Until then, he had to stay on track. Sitting at his desk, Jaskier vowed that he would tell Geralt tomorrow at lunch. Maybe he would have the strength for this embarrassing conversation after his workout this afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things look like they are coming to a head! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter. Please leave comments and kudos below :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier goes to the gym and meets someone from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I am very busy tomorrow, so I am posting a little bit early. This chapter is a bit heavy! TW: ABUSIVE LANGUAGE AND BODY IMAGE ISSUES. Please take care of yourselves and do not read if this could be triggering for you. I would also like to thank Processpending for betaing this chapter, and every chapter produced so far. Definitely check out the stories that Processpending has written! Enjoy, y'all!

“Excuse me, but is there a problem here?”

Jaskier walked into the gym with a pit of dread growing in his stomach. He had not been to a gym in years and with good reason. When he was younger, his mother had urged him to use the gym at the school or join a sports team. Her veiled insults had irked him, especially during his rebellious phase, so every time she tried to pressure him to go to the gym he adamantly refused, instead turning to sports and music for a release. Although he appeared soft, he was naturally athletic: running, dancing, baseball, you name it, he could play it. Throughout his high school career, Jaskier drifted back and forth between sports and music, finally sticking to the arts. His mother had been critical about his choice, especially since the sports had helped to thin him out, but he had to stick with his one true passion: music.

During college he had gone to the gym more frequently, but not as often as he should have. Jaskier had hated seeing all of the fit people going through their routine. Every time he hopped onto one of the machines he would feel inferior, as though others were judging him for exercising. In the darkest corners of his mind he would imagine people whispering and laughing behind his back, mocking the chubby guy who was trying to workout. One time he had told Pris about his worries, and she had told him that no one would do that. Maybe she was right, but it still caused him great anxiety.

Then he had dated Valdo. In the beginning, he had continued going to the gym for an occasional workout. When things got worse, Valdo asked him to start working out more frequently, but at home. “Darling, you need the exercise, but you shouldn’t go to the gym. You’ll just make an embarrassment of yourself,” Valdo would croon in his ear. After that, Jaskier hadn’t gone back to the gym, instead relying on pushups and at-home weight training to keep him in shape.

Ever since the break up, he had to admit to himself that he had slacked off on his workout routine. Instead of doing his crunches he spent his time shopping with Pris. Sometimes he would skip his jog and watch a movie that he had wanted to see in theaters, but Valdo had called stupid. At the time he had thought that skipping a few workouts wouldn’t do too much harm, but his current predicament showed that he had been wrong. 

Trying to keep the panic at bay, he started to run through all of the reasons going to gym was a good idea. Even though the eyes watching his every move would make him feel uncomfortable, it was a necessary evil. Now that he was living alone again he needed the peer pressure to keep him accountable. He was less likely to slack off on his exercises with people watching him. It would just be another performance and he had always been good at pretending. 

Taking a deep breath, Jaskier headed towards the front desk. As he approached the divide he saw a red-haired, handsome man with hazel eyes sat on a wheeled chair. Jaskier tried to make eye contact with the man, but the redhead was staring intently at the computer screen and had not noticed him. Upon reaching the counter he realized that the man was wearing earbuds and had not heard him approaching. Gently clearing his throat, he said, “Ummm, hello. Is this where I can sign up for a membership?”

The other man startled at Jaskier’s voice, jumping in his seat. Looking up, he replied, “Jesus, you’re quiet! You scared the shit out of me man!”

Jaskier backed up, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. He had not meant to startle him so badly. “I’m so sorry. I-I just wanted to sign up for a membership. Maybe I should go,” he babbled to the other man. 

The man stood up to his impressive height, allowing Jaskier to see how built he was. He looked like a mountain of muscle!  _ Maybe that’s what you would look like if you actually tried, Julian _ , the Voice hissed in his head.

Bringing himself back to reality, Jaskier realized that the mountain of a man was talking to him. “No, my fault. Sorry about that. I’m Lambert and I own the gym. I was just doing some paperwork, but I should have been paying attention. You said that you wanted to purchase a membership?”

Jaskier nodded, twiddling his fingers that were filled with nervous energy. “Ummm yes, that would be great!” After a momentary pause, Jaskier pulled out his teacher ID. “I heard that you offer a discount for teachers in the Redanian district?”

Lambert smirked back at him, seemingly amused at his nervous demeanor. “Yes, we do. Here is the paperwork and we will get you all set.”

Jaskier smiled back. “Thank you, that would be much appreciated.” After spending ten minutes filling out paperwork and payment information, Jaskier waved goodbye to Lambert. Heading towards the changing room, Jaskier turned back around and said, “Sorry again!” Lambert waved him off with a grunt. Jaskier shrugged and entered the changing rooms.

After carefully examining the area he found the most secluded corner to claim as his own. He really did not need any of the jacked men walking around to see him and poke fun. Jaskier stripped to his boxer-briefs and slid on a pair of gray gym shorts and a blue crewneck t-shirt. Looking in the mirror, Jaskier grimaced at his reflection. The workout clothes he had picked out this morning were a bit old and did not do him any favors. The shirt clung to his stomach and the shorts seemed tighter than he remembered. Jaskier sighed in disappointment, reminding himself to buy new workout clothes this evening. 

Taking a fortifying breath, Jaskier pushed open the locker room door and headed towards the cardio machines. The gym was well-equipped with modern, sleek equipment. Most of the machines were occupied, leaving Jaskier with the option of the treadmill, the rowing machine, or the elliptical. After careful consideration, Jaskier headed towards the elliptical, grabbing a disinfectant wipe en route. 

Jaskier stepped onto the elliptical and started moving his legs to turn on the screen. Before choosing his program, Jaskier took out his iPhone and opened the Spotify app. He scrolled through his playlists until he found his workout playlist, “Work the Fuck Out Fat Ass.” Clicking shuffle, Jaskier heard the beginning notes of “Work This Body,” by Walk the Moon. 

Turning his attention back to the machine, he selected the “Weight Loss” setting. He frowned when it limited his time to around 30 minutes. Jaskier shrugged. He would just have to restart the program two more times. With a plan in place, he increased the resistance and incline and lost himself in the music.

Towards the end of his first cycle, he started to feel a bit...off. Not quite dizzy, but he knew something was not  _ quite _ right. Jaskier shook his head to chase away the fuzziness nipping at the edges of his mind. He grabbed his Gatorade Zero and took a few swigs until the fuzzy feeling began to dissipate. ‘Good,’ he thought. ‘I still have another hour of cardio before I transition to weight training.’

Jaskier was pleasantly surprised that he was doing so well on cardio. He had not been running much these past few months, taking extra time to work on his compositions. Nevertheless, he was still breathing fairly evenly forty minutes into the elliptical. Maybe he was not as out of shape he had thought. That possibility brought a slight smile to his face.

Jaskier kept moving his legs, completely enveloped in the music until he heard a voice from behind him. “Julian! What a surprise seeing you here at a gym. Nearly didn’t recognize you. You’re looking...healthy.”

Jaskier’s heart dropped to his stomach. “No,” he muttered under his breath. There was no way that he would be here. This gym was on the opposite side of the city for fucks sake! His hopes were dashed when he looked over his shoulder and saw Valdo’s smug face scanning his body with hawklike focus. 

‘Fuck,’ Jaskier thought, feeling his heart beating much faster than it should. Of course Valdo was here. He had been foolish to think that he could really escape him. Naturally Valdo had found him looking like this. Sometimes he swore that his ex had a sixth sense when it came to finding ways to embarrass him. There went his daydreams of Valdo seeing him again, looking fit and beautiful with a hot man on his arm. Honestly, he shouldn’t be surprised; life wasn’t a fairytale and dreams rarely came true. 

It didn’t help that Valdo looked exactly the same. Damn it, why did he have to look so good? Even in his gym shorts, his green eyes and his brunette curls framed his cheekbones. It was infuriating that the other man looked like he could be a model even though he had a shriveled, blackened heart. Life really was not fair.

Jaskier continued using the elliptical with single-minded focus. “What the fuck are you doing here, Valdo?”

Valdo shot him a menacing smile, moving in front of the elliptical to catch his eye. “Oh, this is my new gym. My new boyfriend is a member so I’ve been coming here for a month. The real question is what are  _ you  _ doing here? We both know that you detest exercise.”

Jaskier shuddered and tried to remind himself that what Valdo said wasn’t true. He exercised! Maybe not as often as he should, but he did and he was good at it!

Ignoring Jaskier’s distress, Valdo eyes scanned Jaskier’s body with a smirk plastered on his face. “Wow you really look terrible Jules, although I’m not surprised. You always had awful self-control. I told you that you’d gain back the weight once we broke up!” Valdo took that opportunity to grab at Jaskier’s midsection with a bruising grip.

Jaskier was mortified. He kept trying to find the words to tell Valdo to stop, but he just couldn’t force them out of his mouth. ‘I can’t show Valdo that he is getting to me,’ thought Jaskier through ragged breaths. With hardened resolve, Jaskier kept on pumping his legs and tried to imagine that he was somewhere else.

“Yeah, you definitely thickened up, Jules.” Valdo circled Jaskier like a predator around its prey. Assessing him for a moment, Valdo finally looked Jaskier in the eyes. “203?”

Jaskier knew exactly what Valdo meant. Jaskier’s weight fluctuated a lot during the four years that they dated. Within two years, Valdo was able to accurately guess his weight just by looking at him. Jaskier had hated that particular game, but Valdo ignored his protests whenever he guessed a number. “Oh grow up, Julian. You need the supervision until you can take care of yourself,” Valdo would say while prodding and poking at him.

Jaskier’s eyes burned with unshed tears, but felt the need to defend himself. “No, 193.” He grimaced knowing that Valdo would latch onto that number and use it against him, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to answer.

Valdo quirked an eyebrow at Jaskier. “Really?” Jaskier nodded in affirmation. “You must have lost muscle tone. You’re looking doughier than usual. Looks like you made a mistake breaking up with me.” Valdo’s face stretched into an evil smile. “Too bad that I wouldn’t take you back even if you begged. My new boyfriend is so much better than you ever were: younger, less obnoxious, actually shuts up when I ask him to. Oh, and he doesn’t need me to supervise his diet like a five year old! He’s also  _ incredibly _ hot! Like damn! I mean you’re hot too when you don’t look more like a muffin than a man,” Valdo spit out, grasping a section of his muffin top in a bruising grip. “Unfortunately for you, that doesn’t happen often.”

Jaskier finally lost his composure and gasped out “Stop! Please!” He couldn’t focus on what was happening. Where was he? Did he ever actually leave Valdo? Was it all a dream? Fuck, it was getting hard to breathe. Why couldn’t he breathe? He just had to keep moving. If he kept moving everything would be fine. The way that he kept on moving his legs became more mechanical than voluntary. He honestly didn’t know how they still worked.

Valdo just chuckled, “I bet you haven’t even gotten laid since we broke up.” Jaskier flinched at that, unable to stop his visceral reaction. Of course Valdo was right. He hadn’t had sex in a while. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re great in bed, but no one would want you looking like this! Good luck finding someone new!”

Those last words were the straw that broke the camel’s back as tears finally rolled down his face intertwining with the sweat coating his face. Fuck, that one had hurt. He knew that there was no way Geralt would want him looking like a fatass, but it stung to hear someone else confirm it. _ No, Valdo is an asshole, don’t listen to him _ , a voice sounding like Pris shouted in his head, but he ignored it. Why shouldn’t he? Valdo was right! No one had propositioned him in months. He was so stupid, letting his crush on Geralt grow. There was no way that would happen in a million years, not with his lack of self-control.

Jaskier and Valdo were so caught up in each other that neither man noticed someone walking towards them. “Excuse me, but is there a problem here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't murder me!!! I promise that things are going to get better! I am not lying with the recovery tag, but recovery is a rocky road. Comment and Kudos below and I'll see you next week. Stay safe lovelies!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier's white knight finally shows up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Welcome back! I hope that you all are having a good week. Things are pretty insane right now, but reading all of your kind comments really gets me through the worst days. Thanks again to Processpending, my amazing beta-reader. Enjoy!

Geralt had spent the rest of the school day puzzling over the next step to take with Jaskier, whose reaction to the baby carrots had been anything but reassuring. ‘He’s getting worse,’ Geralt frantically thought. The first time that he had offered baby carrots to the other man, he had accepted and eaten them all. Today he had taken one look at the carrots in his hand and left. How could he help Jaskier if he would not even look at him?

Caught up in his thoughts, Geralt hardly noticed the final bell ringing, indicating the end of the school day. Geralt rubbed his hand across his face, filled with anxious energy. What he really needed to do was exercise; over the years he had found that the best cure for his anxiety was physical activity. He really wished that he could go to the gym today, but he had to drive Ciri home.

‘Speak of the Devil,’ he thought as his daughter barreled through his classroom door. Since the Middle school and the High school were connected through a passageway, it was more convenient for her to find him in his classroom before leaving for the day. Ciri bounced over to his desk before plopping herself on top of it.

“Hi Dad! How was your day?” Ciri asked in a cheerful voice. 

Usually Geralt loved his daughter’s endless enthusiasm and joyful attitude, but on days like this it became a bit too much. He looked up at his daughter and grunted in lieu of a verbal answer. Immediately, Ciri’s face became more serious, losing its near perpetual playfulness. “Dad, are you alright? Are you having one of your bad days?”

Geralt winced at the question. He hated that his daughter had to ask him about his bad days. For fucks sake, he was the parent! He was the one supposed to be taking care of her, not the other way around! Geralt looked at his little girl who was examining him with clever, but worried, eyes. “Something happened, but I’ll be fine. I just need time, you know?”

Ciri narrowed her eyes at Geralt, looking just like Yennefer in that moment. “Bullshit.”

Geralt widened his eyes and lightly protested. “Ciri-”

She cut him off quickly. “No, stop it! You need to go to the gym and punch something for a few hours. I should still be able to catch the bus if I run. I’ll meet you at home later tonight and then we will eat dinner and talk like civilized people.”

Geralt was stunned. When did Ciri learn to argue her point so efficiently? Looking at the clock, he noted that there was no way that she would make it to the buses in enough time. “Fine, I’ll go to the gym, but first I’m driving you home.” He saw her trying to cut him off, but he gave her a piercing look. “No buts, that’s final. Let’s go.”

They left the room in silence, both on edge after their intense conversation. Geralt knew that he would need to apologize for his short temper, but that would have to wait. Over the years he had come to learn that if he tried to say anything when in this mood, things would not go in his favor. He would apologize over dinner.

Heading in the direction of the Main Office to sign out, Geralt’s peripheral vision caught a figure moving quickly towards the front door. Turning his head slightly, he saw that it was Jaskier, carrying an extra bag and walking out of the school. Geralt scowled upon seeing the other man, instantly reminded that he had no fucking clue how to help him. If he was not able to help Jaskier, then he would never forgive himself. 

If Ciri noticed his further blackened mood, she did not comment on it. Their ride home was filled with awkward silence as the radio played pop hits in the background. When they arrived at home, he cleared his throat awkwardly to catch Ciri’s attention. “I’ll grab your favorite pizza on the way home, okay?”

Ciri gifted him a small smile and pointed her finger at him. “Don’t forget the garlic knots again or I will be very upset with you! Remember what happened last time you forgot.”

Geralt smiled at her, glad that he was at least partially forgiven. “Of course! Trust me, I’ll never forget garlic knots again. I should be home by six, but I’ll keep you posted.”

“Okay, Dad! Have fun punching shit!” With a cheeky smile and a wave, Ciri ran towards the front door.

Geralt laughed, watching Ciri struggle with Roach as she jumped at her excitedly. He loved his daughter so much. Turning his gaze to back out of the driveway, Geralt began the familiar route to his brother’s gym. Luckily it was only a fifteen minute drive from his house, so he arrived at the facility quickly. Grabbing his emergency gym bag, Geralt launched himself out of the car and towards the front doors.

Geralt burst into the gym, looking for his younger brother, Lambert. The asshole owned the gym and would let him both rant and lift weights at the same time. Geralt grit his teeth, hoping that Lambert would actually seriously listen to him for once. Usually, Geralt liked to go to Eskel to vent about serious issues, but Lambert would have to do for now.

Scanning the area, Geralt spotted his brother behind the front desk filling out some paperwork. Geralt stomped over to his brother, garnering Lambert’s attention by the amount of noise he was making. “Jesus Geralt, stop it! You’re going to scare off my customers again.”

Geralt smirked. “Well then, your customers should toughen up.” The two men stared into each other's eyes for a moment before they both broke into easy grins. Lambert came out from behind the desk and slapped Geralt on the back. “What are you doing here? You never come to the gym in the afternoons.” Lambert’s face belied his concern, even though his voice was forced into a casual tone. 

Geralt sighed, weighing the options he had right now. Finally, he decided to go with the truth. “Rough day. Spot me on weights?”

Lambert scoffed. “You do realize that I  _ own  _ this place right? I have clients to help! I’m super important.” Even through all of his blustering, Geralt could tell that Lambert was going to give in like he always did. 

After allowing him a minute to complain, Geralt cut in. “Are you done yet?”

Lambert rolled his eyes. “Prick,” he said, even though his eyes were filled with affection. “Yeah, sure, I’ll help you. Just give me a minute. I need to check on this new member. He’s been going high speed on an elliptical for over an hour and I’m afraid he might keel over.” After a slight pause, Lambert continued. “Actually you might know him.” 

Geralt looked curiously at his brother. “Really? Why’s that?”

Lambert shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Oh, no reason. He just said that he was a teacher in the Redanian School district.”

Geralt felt a chill rush down his spine. There was no reason for him to suspect that it was Jaskier, but a sense of foreboding had filled him with those casual words. Gathering his wits, he asked Lambert, “What was his name?”

“Woah, Geralt! Calm the fuck down!” Geralt had not realized until then that he had pulled Lambert towards him by the collar of his shirt. “Julian, umm, something. I think it started with a P?” 

Geralt’s mind started running a thousand miles a minute. Jaskier’s last name was Pankratz, but Julian? Geralt was struck dumb by the idea that Jaskier was only a moniker. He had never actually  _ learned  _ Jaskier’s real name! “Fuck,” he growled under his breath. Geralt looked at Lambert with intense eyes and said, “Point him out to me.”

Lambert pushed him off while muttering about what an asshole he was. Straightening out his clothing, Lambert pointed in the general direction of the elliptical in question. Turning his head in that direction, Geralt saw Jaskier, but was not happy at the scene being played out.

Jaskier looked awful. Well, as awful as Jaskier could ever look. He was wearing gym clothes that were soaked through with his sweat and looked as though he would keel over at any moment. His already fair skin was deathly pale, making him look like a corpse. Even with that distressing visual, that wasn’t the worst part of what he saw. 

There was a man standing in front of Jaskier. This unknown man was undeniably handsome, at least he would have been if the cruel look on his face hadn’t twisted his features. The man appeared to be talking to Jaskier, but Geralt could not hear the conversation. All that he could see was how visibly upset Jaskier was becoming.

Looking at his brother, he asked, “Who’s that asshole?”

Lambert made a disgusted sound. “Valdo. He’s new around here, but he gives me a bad feeling. He hasn’t done anything to get himself kicked out...yet.” There was a moment of silence. “I’m going to go check that everything’s alright.”

At that very moment, Geralt saw Valdo forcefully grab Jaskier with a bruising grip, appearing to hiss vitriolic words at him. Geralt looked at Lambert and said, “I’ll handle this.” He was positive that he heard his brother trying to dissuade him from murdering his clients, but Geralt wasn’t really listening. How  _ dare _ that man touch Jaskier without his consent.

Moving across the floor at breakneck speed, Geralt caught a few words of the conversation between the two men. “...great in bed, but no one would want you looking like this! Good luck finding someone new!” If Geralt had been angry before, now he was furious. Lambert was going to be angry about the bloodstains on the floor, but he’d get over it. No one spoke to Jaskier like that. Period.

Approaching the two men, Geralt saw that Jaskier was trembling and taking shallow breaths as he continued to use the elliptical. It did not take a genius to figure out that this man was  _ not  _ a friend of Jaskier’s and Geralt would be escorting him out of the building one way or another. Clearing his throat, Geralt spoke. “Excuse me, but is there a problem here?”

Geralt could pinpoint the moment that both men noticed his presence. Jaskier swung his head over in his direction and just stared at him. Maybe he was imagining it, but he thought he saw some of the tension leave the corner of his eyes. The other man, Valdo, looked up and paled for a moment, before resuming his confident persona. 

The smug little bastard took a step towards him. “Who the hell are you?” He asked in a commanding tone. Geralt raised an eyebrow at the other man. He was honestly a little impressed. Most people looked at Geralt and ran in the other direction. Either this man was incredibly brave or incredibly stupid; Geralt was leaning towards the latter.

Geralt matched Valdo’s step so they were toe-to-toe. “He’s my coworker. Who the fuck are you?” He watched in satisfaction as the man swallowed in fear, appearing to realize that he had made a slight miscalculation as to who he was dealing with. 

Valdo rolled back his shoulders, standing up to his full height. The bastard was about his height, but he was a scrawny motherfucker. He could easily take him in a fight.

Apparently, Valdo had not gotten the memo that Geralt was going to turn him into a carpet stain because he just smirked and crossed his arms across his chest. “I’m his ex and we are having a conversation. Fuck off.” With that, Valdo turned his back to Geralt and continued his conversation with Jaskier as though he was not standing right behind him. “My, my Jules, looks like you have found yourself a white knight.”

Geralt saw Jaskier shiver in fear and finally had enough. He grabbed Valdo’s arm, spinning him around in the process and tightly grabbed the collar of his shirt. “Damn straight. I’d fuck off if I were you,” Geralt growled at the scrawny man in front of him.

Valdo huffed out a dry laugh. “With a growl like that he seems more like a guard dog than a knight.” Placing his hand on Geralt’s right arm, Valdo pointed at Geralt’s wolf tattoo that was peeking out under his sleeve. “Perhaps, a White Wolf,” Valdo questioned with a slimy smile.

Geralt tightened his hold on Valdo’s collar, preparing to throw the man on the floor. Valdo held up his hands with mirth dancing in his eyes. “Message received. I’m leaving.” Geralt was ready to ignore this man’s promises, but one look at Lambert told him that he’d be in deep shit for fighting Valdo in the gym. He let go of the asshole, allowing him to stumble around attempting to catch his balance. 

Valdo finally stood up and straightened his shirt, vainly trying to regain his composure. Before leaving, he turned back to Jaskier. “If you’re truly desperate for sex and you lose the flab, call me. You were always great in bed.” Spinning on his heel, Valdo walked out of the gym.

Geralt was shocked into inaction. How  _ dare  _ that man say that to Jaskier? Geralt started walking towards the exit, planning to beat the shit out of Valdo, before he heard a wheeze behind him. Turning around, he saw Jaskier still pumping his legs on the elliptical while he took increasingly shallow breaths. “Fuck.”. Jaskier needed him. Taking one last look at the front door, Geralt turned his attention to Jaskier.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said to grab the other man’s attention. The other man did not answer him, appearing not to hear him at all. “Fuck! Jaskier!” This time Jaskier flinched at his voice. That was good progress. At least he was aware of his surroundings. Geralt cursed Valdo Marx’ existence as he tried to get Jaskier’s attention once more. “Jaskier, I need you to calm down and breathe with me. Come on, get off of the elliptical. It will make it easier.”

“Ummm, n-no, no, no --  I need to finish my cycle. I’m almost done then I’ll take a short break.” Although Jaskier had finally spoken he was still not completely in the present. He was looking blankly into the distance, breaths still much too shallow, and his normally vibrant voice completely monotone. 

Geralt sighed and looked over the other man in concern. “I think you’ve done enough for today, Jask. Why don’t you just step down and get some water with me?”

“No! I am almost done. Just let me finish, damn it,” Jaskier snapped back. His breaths were still a bit shallow, but it seemed like their conversation was bringing him back to reality.

Geralt snarled, losing the rest of his patience. Damn it, Jaskier needed to get off of the elliptical before he passed out. “For fuck’s sake, Jaskier! You’ve already been on here for at least an hour and you ate a fucking apple for lunch.” Jaskier kept on plowing ahead at an incredibly fast pace. “Have you been going this fast the entire time?” He asked, both impressed and horrified at the other man’s stamina.

Jaskier reacted to Geralt’s question with a proud little smile. “Yes, I have actually; and after this I am going to lift some weights and do some core and legs for an hour or so.” Geralt raised an eyebrow at that statement. There was no way that Jaskier was going to make it that long. The man already looked like he would topple over any moment. He watched helpless as Jaskier pumped his legs at a frantic pace. This was bad and he had no clue how to help his colleague. 'Maybe you can't,' he bitterly thought, as he watched and dreaded what the future would bring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it was Geralt! Yay! If anyone is interested, I am one of the people who headcannons Robert Sheehan as Valdo Marx. That being said, this characterization of Valdo does not reflect my thoughts on Robert, who I think seems like a chill person. Thank you for continuing to read this work. Leave comments and kudos below!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gym part III...Jaskier and Geralt have a talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers!! Here is the next chapter of the fic. Thanks for continuing to read and support this story. Thanks again to Processpending for beta-ing this entire story. Enjoy!

Jaskier was aware that Valdo had left and that Geralt had magically appeared out of fucking nowhere, but other than that he had no fucking clue as to what was going on. Why was Geralt there? Had he heard what Valdo had said? Oh God, was Geralt going to decide that he was too high maintenance? Fuck, it was getting harder to breath again.

Oh shit, someone was talking to him. It sounded quite urgent, so he should really try and pay attention. Jaskier concentrated on the voice, trying to understand what it was saying. After a few moments, the sounds began to form words that actually made sense to his frazzled mind. The voice was Geralt! That was nice! He was saying, “...get off of the elliptical. It will make it easier.”

Jaskier was confused. Why should he get off of the elliptical? He only had another few minutes until he had reached his goal. He felt himself replying to Geralt, but was unsure of what words were flowing from his mouth. He wasn’t in control of his body and he had been a fool to believe that he ever  _ had  _ control.

Geralt kept on asking him to get off of the elliptical and it was starting to really piss him off. He needed to keep going if he wanted -- if he wanted to look less like a muffin and more like a man. Pushing his way out of the fog edging the sides of his mind, Jaskier shouted, “No! I am almost done. Just let me finish, damn it!” He winced at the shout, hoping that Geralt would not be too angry that he kept telling him no. He really did not want to make him angry.

Unfortunately, he never got what he wanted in life. At least that’s what Jaskier thought when Geralt’s voice raised in volume. “For fuck’s sake, Jaskier! You’ve already been on here for at least an hour and you only ate a fucking apple for lunch.” What the fuck was Geralt talking about? How did he know that he had been on the elliptical for an hour? Had Geralt been stalking him? Jaskier did not like this situation at all. Going to the gym had been a mistake. After a moment of tense silence, Geralt asked, “Have you been going this fast the entire time?”

Jaskier perked up at the question. He had both been on the elliptical and maintained a fast pace for the entirety of his routine. His cardio was not as bad as he had been anticipating, which was a relief. If he had needed to work back up to a high level of cardio training, then it would have taken twice as long to lose the weight. Luckily that did not appear to be an issue. Allowing a small smile to spread across his face, he replied, “Yes, I have actually; and after this I am going to lift some weights and do some core and legs for an hour or so.” His cardio was good, but he knew that he would not be as lucky concerning his strength. Valdo was right; he had lost muscle tone, so he had a tough path ahead of him on that front. 

Turning to face Geralt, Jaskier noted that the older man looked distressed. Jaskier cursed himself for being so selfish. Of course he would be shaken. Valdo was an asshole at the best of times and today he had been downright monstrous. He dragged himself out of his thoughts and looked Geralt in the eyes. “Are you alright?”

Geralt’s eyes grew wide, shining with incredulity. “Am  _ I _ alright?” Geralt asked in a booming voice. Jaskier nodded, prompting him to answer the question. “Jesus, I’m not the one who was just harassed in the middle of a gym! Please stop!” Geralt cried while gesturing at the elliptical. “You’re lucky that you haven’t fainted yet. You need to stop and take a break.” 

Oof, that stung. Did Geralt really have so little faith in him? Jaskier glared at Geralt, letting his irritation bleed through. “Right. Look Geralt, I may not be as buff or as fit as you are, but I am more than capable of doing a little exercise without fainting. I’m not a fucking invalid!” Satisfied that his message was heard loud and clear, he returned his gaze to the electronic display. He only had five more seconds! Jaskier counted down in his mind and nearly let out a cheer when the machine beeped, acknowledging the end of his routine. He looked back at Geralt, who looked confused and hurt, and gave him a smug smile. “See? I told you I could do it.” With that, he grabbed his belongings and stepped off of the machine.

For a moment Jaskier did not know what was happening. Why was the floor rushing towards his face? Wasn’t the floor supposed to stay put? Maybe there was an earthquake. Fuck! No, his legs were failing him. He grabbed the elliptical for support and felt a hand grabbing his shoulder to steady him. Jaskier flinched at the sudden contact, worried that Valdo had come back to torment him, but turning over his shoulder he only found Geralt giving him a worried and knowing look. 

Geralt grunted in displeasure. “Bench. Now.”

Jaskier sighed, knowing that there was no way to dissuade this stubborn man of anything when he was in this kind of mood. He allowed Geralt to guide him towards one of the benches on the side of the room, with his hand steering Jaskier in the correct direction. Okay, maybe he was a bit tired after that workout, but that just proved that he had really let himself go.

Slumping onto the bench, Jaskier was immediately handed water and saltines. “Drink. Eat. Now.”

Jaskier looked up at Geralt. “Oh, so we’ve returned to monosyllabic communication, have we?” When Geralt did not answer him, Jaskier grabbed the water and saltines and did as he was asked.

Geralt relaxed a little bit and sat down beside him. While Jaskier drank his water, Geralt spoke. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

Jaskier swallowed the water and turned towards the other man. “What do you mean?”

Geralt looked at the floor, appearing to collect his thoughts. “I didn’t mean that you couldn’t do the elliptical because you were out of shape. I meant that no one should exercise that hard for that long.” Jaskier scoffed at Geralt, taking another sip of water. Geralt looked at him with pleading eyes. “I’m not lying, Jaskier. I would have fainted early on,  _ especially  _ if I had only eaten an apple for lunch. You could have really hurt yourself!”

Jaskier’s shoulders slumped. Great! He could not even exercise without causing people to worry. One day he might not be a blight on the lives of the people he cared for.

Geralt waited for Jaskier to respond for a minute, but when he did not, the older man cleared his throat. “Did you really date that asshole?”

Jaskier snorted and wiped away the sweat gathering on his brow. “Yes, for four years.” He met Geralt’s golden eyes and found them filled with pain. “He wasn’t always like that, you know. At one point I think he truly loved me, but as you can see that’s no longer the case.” Jaskier felt something wet on his cheek. Reaching up to feel it, he realized that he was crying. Excellent, he was crying and looked a mess in front of the man he had a crush on. This day couldn’t get any worse.

Jaskier was pulled out of his self loathing when he heard a deep growl emanating from his left side. Turning in that direction, he was surprised to see the noise coming from Geralt. The older man growled out, “I can’t believe he said those things to you. It was degrading and rude and…” Geralt paused, searching for the words that would convey his anger. “I should’ve ripped his spine out, if he even has one!”

Jaskier’s blood turned ice cold. Fuck, he could not believe it had not computed that Geralt was there and had most likely heard what Valdo had said to him. His breathing started to get faster, making it more difficult to concentrate. God, what was Geralt going to say?

He felt Geralt grip onto his shoulder. “Jaskier! Shit, um, list things that you can see in the room.”

Jaskier shrugged Geralt’s hand off of his shoulder, turning to face the other man. “No, I’m fine, just-” At this point, Jaskier took a fortifying breath, steeling his nerves for what was to come. “Just, how much did you hear?”

Geralt shot a confused look in his direction. “Of the conversation?” The brunette nodded. “Not much, honestly. I heard everything that he said when I was standing there. Before that I only heard a few garbled words when I ran over, but I didn’t hear a lot. I was talking to my brother when I saw that bastard...prodding at you. You looked uncomfortable so I-” Running out of words, Geralt flailed his hands as if to finish the explanation. 

Jaskier let out a sigh of relief. Maybe the damage done was not irreparable. “Ah, yes. That was quite...unpleasant. Thank you for intervening.” A blush rose on Jaskier’s cheeks, indicating his embarrassment at the entire situation. “I’m sorry that I caused such a scene. It’s ridiculous. I’m a grown man, I should be able to tell someone to fuck off and stop touching me. Pretty pathetic, I know.” He said this all in a nonchalant fashion, trying to smirk and play it off as nothing. It should be nothing, so he would act like it was nothing. 

Geralt looked Jaskier in the eyes. “Bullshit.” Jaskier tried to cut him off, but Geralt did not let him. “No, you have every right to be upset. He said  _ horrible  _ things to you and started feeling you up without your consent. He should be arrested!” To punctuate the last word, Geralt got up and started to pace the length of the bench.

Jaskier chuckled bitterly. “Wasn’t exactly ‘feeling me up,’ Geralt. Prodding was a better word choice.”

Geralt froze mid-step and turned back towards Jaskier. “Well, everything he said and did was wrong. Okay?”

Jaskier did not believe that for a second, but he also knew that Geralt would push the issue if he did not agree. “Sure, Geralt. Thanks.”

Rolling his eyes, Geralt kneeled in front of Jaskier. “I think that what you did was very brave. You survived four years with that asshole! You’re a hero.” Geralt paused, allowing his words to sink in. Jaskier turned pink and tried to look away, but Geralt just moved in tandem to stay in his field of vision. “You know, when I was in college I worked as a personal trainer and dietician.”

Geralt paused looking at Jaskier meaningfully. The other man just stared back, leading to a minute-long silence. “Fascinating! Can I go back to my routine now?” Jaskier tried to get back up, but quickly realized that his legs weren’t able to hold him yet. 

Surveying the scene, Geralt took Jaskier’s hand into his own. “If you would like, I could come up with a routine for you.”

Jaskier flinched, unprepared for Geralt to be so direct and verbose on the subject. To say that was unexpected was an understatement. Regardless, he obviously couldn’t say yes. If Geralt saw what a mess he truly was he would never stand a chance with the other man. “I’m flattered Geralt, truly, but I wouldn’t want to waste your time. Anyways, I have a  _ lot _ of experience in this department, so I should be all set.” He really wished that he could leave this conversation, but his legs were still being uncooperative. 

Geralt raised an eyebrow at the man in front of him. “Really? Is that why you almost fainted in a gym and now can’t move your legs?”

Jaskier wrinkled his nose in frustration. “I’m out of practice! All the more reason to keep it up.”

Jaskier had not been prepared for Geralt’s face to get so close to his own. It happened so fast and he was so surprised that he almost missed what Geralt was saying. “Jaskier, I know that you have started a new ... diet and now you’re exercising yourself to exhaustion. You can’t keep going like this. If you are trying to lose weight -- and don’t deny it --” snapped Geralt at the other man who had tried to cut him off, “then you need to do it in a healthier way.”

“Fuck,” replied Jaskier. He thought that he had been so careful. How did Geralt know about his diet? He hadn’t told him yet! It was obvious to anyone with eyes that he needed to lose weight, so it shouldn’t surprise him that Geralt knew it too; however, he had hoped to be the one to explicitly tell him about it. Maybe Geralt knew what he was talking about and could help him reach his goal. Regardless, it hurt to hear Geralt _acknowledge_ that he was out of shape. “W-was it really that obvious? I thought that I had been rather discreet about it,” whispered Jaskier, dreading the answer that he would receive. 

Fuck, he was going to cry again. He had hoped that he would have the time to shed the weight before anyone could comment on it, but obviously that was a pipedream. 

Geralt looked at him with soft eyes. “I could tell that something was bothering you, but it took me a while to figure it out. I just want to help you, Jask.” He paused, taking Jaskier’s hand and rubbing the back with his fingers. “If you’re determined to lose weight, which is really not necessary, you can’t do it like this. Please let me help you.”

Geralt was on his knees with a pleading look on his face. Dammit, Jaskier knew that he could not deny this man anything. Anyways, he could use extra help trying to slim down and Geralt was definitely a great model of male health. Maybe he could finally figure out why he could never keep the weight off.  _ That’s easy _ , the Voice hissed in his head. I _ t’s because you are a lazy bastard who always gives up when it gets too hard _ .

Ignoring the voice in his head, Jaskier responded. “Fine, I accept your offer, but only if you let me pay you back somehow.”

Geralt shot him a beatific smile, spreading warmth through the entire room. Jaskier could not help the smile that spread across his face, even though he hated the way it would emphasize the roundness of his cheeks. “It’s no bother, really! I love doing this kind of stuff, so you are paying me back by saying yes.” Jaskier was not really satisfied with this answer, but he would push his case later. “Can you get up?” 

Testing his legs, Jaskier pushed himself up to a standing position. “Yeah, thanks! I’m sorry again for disrupting your workout, not that you really need to worry about missing one.” Jaskier blushed, realizing what he had just said. “Fuck, I’m sorry. That was incredibly inappropriate of me and I--”

Geralt held up his hand and cut him off with a chuckle. “Don’t worry about it, Jaskier. I’ll take it as a compliment. It’s nice to know that an old man has still got it.” Blushing, Geralt turned away for a moment to regain his composure. 

Jaskier smiled. “Well, congrats, you definitely do.” He paused for a moment while a playful look flashed in his eyes. “Especially according to our pubescent students.”

Geralt groaned and hid his face for a moment. “I should have never told you about that. You’ll never let me live it down.”

Jaskier nodded his head seriously, vainly trying not to let his smile break through. “Oh yes, you’ve made a grave error. I will never let this go.”

Both men stared at each other for a moment before bursting out in raucous laughter. Jaskier grabbed onto Geralt’s shoulder to steady himself, as the events of the day had left him truly exhausted. 

Geralt seemed to notice this and nodded his head. “Okay, I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow with a workout routine and meal plan of sorts set up. Don’t bother packing your lunch, I have tomorrow covered.” With a charming wink, Geralt jogged over to the red-haired employee from earlier.

Fuck. He was a combination of breathless and nervous from those last few words. Geralt had accepted him even though he looked awful right now. Not only had he comforted him from the brink of a panic attack, but he had taken on the job of making him look presentable again. Maybe he could keep his shit together and impress Geralt by how dedicated he was to bettering himself. Maybe Geralt would be willing to wait for Jaskier to look good again. The thought of Geralt finding him attractive sent chills through his spine. All that he had to do was follow Geralt’s plan. He could do that; he would have to do that.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Geralt ran up to his little brother feeling lighter than he had in weeks. Lambert met him with a stony expression. “Are you done starting fights in my gym?”

He grunted in annoyance at Lambert. “He deserved it! You didn’t hear the shit he was spewing over there.” 

Lambert relaxed his body and nodded his head in acquiescence. “Yeah, actually I did. Don’t worry he’s banned, but who the hell is the other guy,” asked Lambert, while nodding his head in Jaskier’s direction.

Geralt lips quirked upwards in a smile, ignoring Lambert’s startled expression. “Just a friend.” Clapping his brother on the shoulder, Geralt said, “I have to get dinner for Ciri and I. See you later, asshole.” With a quick nod, he ran out the door.

Lambert stayed frozen in place for a good minute after his brother had left. That was fucking weird. Glancing back at his newest client, he said under his breath, “‘Just a friend,’ my ass.” Rolling his eyes, he headed back to his desk to text Eskel about this. He was going to flip his shit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments below and hit that kudos button!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier eat lunch a discuss future plans...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello fabulous readers! I am so glad that you are still reading this story and hopefully enjoying it. Reading all of your amazing comments and receiving kudos gives me so much joy and the inspiration to keep on writing. THanks again to the best beta ever, Processpending. TW: PANIC ATTACK. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Geralt was fucking exhausted as he walked through the front doors of the school. He was running on three hours of sleep and his anxiety was through the roof, but he would not have it any other way. Jaskier had accepted his help, so he would do everything within his power to do just that.

Pulling out his pen, Geralt signed in and headed towards his classroom. The situation at the gym kept running through his head like an old cassette tape, continuously rewinding and replaying itself. Marx was a shit stain of a human being and possibly the originator of Jaskier’s… food issues. He wished that he had used the opportunity to punch the bastard, but Jaskier had needed him more in that moment.

To be honest, Geralt was surprised that Jaskier had taken him up on his offer. He had thought that it would be harder to persuade the younger man to let him help, but he had accepted his help quickly. Thinking about it, Jaskier had accepted too quickly. Geralt had a bad feeling that Jaskier had misconstrued his intentions, but that was a hurdle that he would leap when he came to it. At this point, it was more important that Jaskier was willing to listen to his advice. 

Once he arrived at his room, Geralt unloaded his unusually heavy bag and placed Jaskier’s dietary plan on the desk. It was not overly detailed or complicated. As a matter of fact, he had struggled with crafting it, knowing that Jaskier would fight him on eating so much food. After careful deliberation, Geralt had decided that it would be best to create a dietary plan that would include healthy foods and an increase in daily caloric intake. Jaskier needed to eat, so that would be Geralt’s priority. 

Taking another sip of his cooling coffee, Geralt contemplated how to best bring up the health plan to Jaskier. The younger man would not be pleased by what Geralt would be requesting of him and it could be enough to set back the small process that they had made yesterday. He would suggest that they eat lunch in one of their rooms so the conversation would be less public. That would help, but what if that made Jaskier feel trapped? 

Geralt sighed in frustration, feeling a headache forming behind his eyes. Deep down, he knew that there was no way to make this process an easy one, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t try. Jaskier had obviously been through a lot and the last thing he wanted to do was cause him more pain. Sipping the dregs of his coffee, Geralt slammed his empty cup onto the desk. Fretting about the future would get him nowhere. All he could do was prepare for lunch and plan for all the ways this could possibly go wrong. Until then, he would have to wait. 

* * *

* * *

* * *

Jaskier was on edge throughout the entire morning, fretting about the conversation that he knew was waiting for him during lunch. Not only would Geralt be handing him a new diet and exercise routine, but he was likely to pry into what had happened at the gym last night.

Jaskier had been called many things in his life, many of them not pleasant, but he was not a stupid man. Geralt must have heard more than he let on, but he didn’t bring it up. Looking back on the situation, Jaskier was fairly certain that the older man hadn’t pushed because of his obvious panic. Geralt was a good man; he would not want to bring distress when avoidable, but now that his initial panic has passed, Geralt would bring up the things that Valdo said, especially those pertaining to his weight. Geralt was now his dietician and fitness instructor; there was no way that the other man would not agree with and bring up the comments that Valdo had made. His ex was a dick, but he was never wrong about these things.

As the bell rang to signal the end of fifth period, Jaskier dismissed his class and headed in the direction of the teacher’s lounge like a man being led to his demise. There was nothing that he could do to stop the inevitable and the sooner that he dealt with it, the sooner he could begin to repress it. 

Jaskier was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice Geralt walking towards him until the man said, “Jaskier.” 

Startled out of his thoughts, Jaskier looked up into piercing, amber eyes. “Is it possible that he has gotten more attractive overnight?” Jaskier idly thought. Instead of voicing his opinions on Geralt’s visage, he replied, “Geralt! I was just heading to our table. What are you doing here?”

Geralt cleared his throat. “I thought that we could eat in your room today. Or in my room...A room.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow at Geralt’s stuttering while he processed this request. Upon further consideration, Jaskier agreed that this conversation would be better had in a private space. “Yeah! My room works.” Without checking to see if Geralt was following, he turned on his heel and retraced his steps. 

As they approached the door, Jaskier grew increasingly nervous. There was no escaping this uncomfortable conversation, but that did not mean that he was looking forward to it. Unlocking the door, he ushered Geralt into the room all the while preparing for the worst.

They both took a seat at one of the larger tables at the front of the room. Silently, Geralt took out two identical containers from his bag and placed one in front of Jaskier. After a moment, Geralt spoke. “It’s Couscous-Quinoa Tabouli. I wasn’t sure if you had any allergies, so I left off the walnut garnish, but I brought extra just in case.” Suddenly, Geralt’s face lit up as though he remembered something. He reached into his bag and produced a tupperware filled with pita slices which he placed in the middle of the table. “It’s really good with pita bread.”

Jaskier swallowed while looking at the array of food before him. It was a lot of food. Too much. He tried to convince himself that Geralt knew what he was doing -- anyone would agree by just looking at the man -- so he should just be grateful for the lunch and dig in. 

_ Geralt usually works with people that have functioning metabolisms, Julian. He probably underestimated what a pig you are _ . Blushing at the comment, Jaskier began to pick at the food in front of him, taking small bites.

The older man’s lips twitched slightly upwards before removing a stack of papers from his bag. After flipping through the pages, he placed the packet in front of Jaskier. “Alright, here is an outline of the diet that I have put together for you. It will have to be adjusted over time, but this will provide a general idea of the amounts of food you should be eating daily.”

Flipping through the pages, Jaskier stopped at a colorful looking plate separated into whole grains, vegetables, fruits, and healthy protein. It looked vaguely like the food pyramid, but was a bit different. Holding up the page, Jaskier asked, “What happened to the food pyramid? It’s looking rounder than I remember it.”

Geralt snorted in amusement. “We use the Health Eating Plate now. It’s better at showing food proportions.”

Jaskier nodded his head in understanding before continuing to flip through the packet. Reading through the pages, Jaskier noticed that Geralt’s diet plan was less about eating specific foods and more about balance. There was no mention of target calorie amounts anywhere, but several suggested recipes attached that would cover the daily requirements. It was unlike any diet that Jaskier had ever gone on before, which made him quite nervous. Would this even work?

If he had been anxious before, that was nothing compared to how he felt upon flipping to the final page. Printed in black ink was an example of what his meal schedule would look like in a week and it was a lot. Six meals.  _ Six _ ! Granted, three of them were snacks, but those snacks were the size of a normal meal to him.

Geralt cleared his throat to gain Jaskier’s attention. Jaskier’s mounting panic had not gone without notice and the older man felt obliged to say something. “It’s a lot of information to take in, but the recipes are pretty simple and taste good. They should also provide all the nutrition that a man your age and height would need.”

Jaskier looked up blinking at Geralt while presenting the page in question. “Geralt, I really appreciate all of the work that you put into this, but this can’t be right.”

Geralt scrunched up his nose, looking like a confused puppy. “What do you mean?” Geralt grunted.

At this point, Jaskier lost the words that had been collecting on the tip of his tongue moments before. Surely, he wasn’t going to make him say it. After a tense couple of moments, Jaskier realized that he  _ was  _ going to make him explain. Clenching his jaw, Jaskier put down the packet in question and clasped his hands in front of him. “It’s too much food, Geralt. I’m supposed to be on a diet to slim down, not bulk up.” As he gritted out these words, Jaskier avoided Geralt’s eyes, gazing with a rising blush at his hands. 

Geralt took in a deep breath to collect his thoughts and gain a better handle on his temper. He had known that this wouldn’t be easy, but it hurt to hear Jaskier deny himself something that he sorely needs. “Yes, I am aware. I will repeat, this is the proper amount of food for a man of your stature and age. If you do not believe me, you can check with any doctor or nutritionist.” Running out of words, Geralt once again fell silent, waiting for Jaskier’s inevitable rebuttal.

Jaskier looked up into Geralt’s eyes, feeling a thrum of anger run through his veins. He said it as though it were that easy, as though Jaskier hadn’t spent  _ years _ of his life trying to eat like his peers without any consequences. Lifting a sarcastic eyebrow, Jaskier laughed derisively. “Well, they are obviously incorrect! Maybe that is true for someone with a better metabolism or for a giant like you, but that won’t work for me. I can’t eat  _ six _ meals a day! I just...I can’t…” and he suddenly can’t continue. It feels as though his ability to speak has been taken away.

A moment later, Geralt is by his side. ‘That’s odd,’ thought Jaskier. ‘He wasn’t there a second ago. How did he move so quickly?’ Oh, Geralt was talking to him! He was probably saying something very interesting. The older man was very smart and said the funniest things when he deigned to speak. Making an effort to concentrate, Jaskier focused on Geralt’s face.

“Jaskier...Jaskier!” Geralt’s voice was distorted, as if it was moving through water to reach his ears. In the recesses of his mind, Jaskier realized what was happening, but he just couldn’t pull himself out of his panic. “Jaskier! Name things that you can see in the room. Can you do that for me?”

Geralt sounded very worried and he hated hearing the older man’s voice infused with concern. Using his last dregs of energy, Jaskier tried to pull himself back to Geralt. “C-chair, a table...the floor ---” As he continued listing things, Jaskier became more aware of his surroundings and how close Geralt was to him. Jerking backwards, Jaskier looked away and softly whispered, “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

Once he assured himself that Jaskier was truly doing better, Geralt lifted himself off of the floor. “Don’t apologize. I-I understand. I used to get them too.” Without expanding on his statement, the older man sat back down and took a bite of his Tabouli. 

After a tense moment of silence, Geralt set down his fork and shifted his gaze back to Jaskier. “Do you trust me?”

Jumping at the sudden presence of noise, Jaskier looked up in confusion. “What?”

“Do you trust me?” 

Jaskier was struck dumb, contemplating the loaded question. Did he trust, Geralt? To be honest, he was not sure if he had the capability to trust anyone anymore, at least not someone new. He trusted Pris, but did he trust Geralt? After a minute of contemplation, he turned his gaze back to the man in question. “I think I do.”

He was rewarded for his vague answer with a small smile that quickly vanished, like the sun on a cloudy day. Clearing his throat, Geralt nodded his head and clapped his hands in front of him. “Then I will need you to trust me on this. I know that it might be overwhelming, but it will make you feel better, I promise.” When Jaskier’s uncertain expression did not change, Geralt continued to persuade him. “It might be an adjustment to start eating...more, but you can start slowly and incorporate more over time.” That seemed to relax the younger man a little bit, but Geralt saw that he needed one more push. Taking a deep breath, he used his last idea -- bargaining. 

Shifting his face into a serious expression, Geralt spoke. “If it doesn’t work within the month you can stop and go back to your original plan or modify my plan to better work for you. How does that sound?” Inside, Geralt was cringing, hoping beyond hope that this was not the wrong move. He moved to offer his hand to Jaskier in a handshake.

Jaskier considered the offer. It sounded fair; it was like a free-trial -- if he did not like it, then he could return it or change it. This gave him power to choose what happened, which was something that he hadn’t had in years. Also, it was clear that Geralt must know  _ something _ with a physique like that. “Deal,” said Jaskier, while taking the proffered hand. 

With a small smile, Jaskier grabbed his fork and took a few more bites of the tabouli in front of him. It was quite delicious and if Geralt said it was allowed on his diet, he would trust him...for now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Baby steps are happening and will continue to happen. Thanks again for reading and I'll see you again on Saturday. If you're interested in what Jaskier and Geralt are eating, [here](https://www.hsph.harvard.edu/nutritionsource/couscous-quinoa-tabouli/) is a link to the recipe. I am actually going to make it for dinner tonight!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt asks some questions and the boys get ready for the gym...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I hope that you all had a wonderful week. Here is the next chapter, a few hours early because I start my new job tomorrow. Thanks again to Processpending for editing all of my chapters! I hope that you all enjoy :)

The final bell rang, sending hoards of students loose into the halls. Jaskier stood up from his desk, grabbed his gym bag and headed over to Geralt’s room. At the end of sixth period, Geralt had asked Jaskier to meet there at the end of the day before they headed to the gym. “I just have some health questions to ask before heading to the gym.” Without a farewell, Geralt had walked out of the classroom, deep in thought.

Jaskier was not looking forward to these “questions” that Geralt had mentioned. What kind of questions was he going to ask? It was obvious to anyone with eyes that he was out of shape. What else was there to know?

Upon reaching his destination, Jaskier knocked on the classroom door and waited for Geralt’s response. After a moment he heard a gruff voice yell, “Come in!” He entered the room and found Geralt picking up a pile of papers that had fallen on the floor. Without consciously thinking, Jaskier found himself on his knees gathering up the remaining papers. Looking up, he found himself drowning in kind, golden eyes, only mere inches separating them. Both men stared at each other, moving closer to each other as though the strings of tension between them had become material. Jaskier blinked and knew that he had to speak before he did something stupid that he would regret. “Ummm, y-your papers?” Jaskier asked, handing the pile to the man in front of him. 

Geralt swallowed, noting that his throat felt very dry for some reason. “Uh, yes. Thanks.” They both stood, leaving a pregnant pause to fill the moment. After placing his papers on his desk, Geralt turned back towards Jaskier. “Before we head to the gym I have a few questions to ask you to better tailor your fitness program. Alright?”

The younger man worried at his lip and nodded in assent. Taking a seat, Jaskier focused his gaze on a small imperfection on the desk. He knew what came next and there was no way he was going to look at Geralt when confessing his sins. 

Geralt pulled out a small notebook and a pen, before looking up at Jaskier. “I am going to have to take notes about what you are saying so I can have a record. I have a shitty memory,” he explained with a deprecating laugh. When Jaskier did not respond to the olive branch, Geralt continued. “Uh, if you would like you can have access to the notes. It will be completely transparent and I will let you know what I am writing down. Would that work for you?”

Jaskier nodded his head again, still looking at that singular spot on the desk. It was fascinating how such a small spot could garner so much attention; how one imperfection just drew the attention of all. 

Geralt cleared his throat to announce the beginning of the interrogation. “Stop being so dramatic, Jask, it’s just a few questions,” he thought.

“Let’s start with the basics. Age?”

Jask gave a teasing smile to hide how uncomfortable he was by this entire conversation. “Haven’t you heard that it’s rude to ask a lady their age?” When Geralt shot him an unimpressed look, Jaskier sighed and answered honestly. “27.”

Geralt jotted down the answer. “Height?”

“5’11”... and a half. Six foot on a good day.”

Geralt huffed out an amused laugh at that. “Okay, I’ll be certain to keep that half in mind. Do you have any medical conditions?”

Jaskier snorted at the question. “How do you mean?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him before tilting another paper towards his face. “Do you have asthma, a family history of coronary disease or high blood pressure? Any recent surgeries?”

“No, no, and no.” Jaskier’s expression conveyed his confusion, but nevertheless he asked, “Why do you need to know?”

Geralt placed the paper back on the desk, turning his attention back to Jaskier. “Exercise places stress on the body. If I don’t know about a medical condition, then I can hurt you by asking you to do something that will cause you further injury.” Finished with his explanation, Geralt continued his list of questions. “Are you on any medication?”

Jaskier sighed, slightly annoyed that he was spending his time answering questions instead of actually working out. “I take Claritin for seasonal allergies.”

Noting his answer, Geralt asked, “Do you smoke?”

Jaskier blushed before answering. “On occasion. I’m trying to kick the habit. It’s bad for the voice.”

_ But it’s good for keeping the weight off _ , the Voice replied.

Geralt grunted. “Okay. Do you drink?”

Jaskier winced at the slight tone of disappointment in Geralt’s voice. He really needed to get on quitting. “I used to drink recreationally, but I don’t drink nearly as much anymore.”

_ Good, it’s fattening _ , supplied the Voice. 

“Any back problems, bad joints, sports injuries?”

The younger man scoffed indignantly before answering. “I’m not  _ that _ old Geralt, jeez.” After being signaled to answer the other questions, Jaskier rolled his eyes, and replied, “No, no, and an old sprain. It’s my right ankle and it hurts sometimes, but I usually just ignore it.”

Geralt’s face twisted into a chagrined look. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. How much sleep do you get on a typical night?”

Jaskier calculated the number. Between the anxiety and his songwriting he did not get as much sleep as he probably should. “Approximately 6 to 7 hours a night.”

Geralt’s jaw tightened minutely, but he said nothing to express his displeasure at hearing how Jaskier just  _ didn’t  _ take care of himself. “Okay. Let’s move to the next set of questions. What are your short-term and long-term goals?”

‘Fuck,’ Jaskier thought. ‘Here we go.’ Sitting straight up in his seat, Jaskier said, “I think it’s pretty obvious what my goal should be, Geralt.”

The older man set down his pen. “No, it isn’t. I’m not a mind reader, Jask.”

‘Holy shit, he called me Jask!’ He thought underneath the annoyance that was building towards the other man. “Fine! I’d like to lose weight, tone up, just look good, okay?” Jaskier snapped the words with his arms crossed protectively over his chest. 

Geralt eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. He had no idea how to respond to that. Jaskier  _ did  _ look good, what the fuck? Instead of voicing this, Geralt replied, “You seem to be young and in good health, so I will need more specifics. Do you have a timeframe or a specific amount you would like to lose? Would you also want to gain muscle mass?”

Jaskier’s eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “Yeah, okay. I’d like to look...thinner before the holidays if possible. Back down to a better weight. I’m not a fan of big muscles-” Seeing Geralt’s teasing smile, Jaskier backtracked. “I mean on myself! Not that big muscles are bad! I mean they really work for you, ah fuck.” Jaskier placed his face in his hands, wondering if moving to a new state and changing his name was too drastic. 

Geralt just laughed kindly and replied, “Don’t worry about it. Please continue.”

Jaskier groaned in embarrassment, but looked back up at Geralt. “Sorry. Uh, where was I? Oh, yes! I’d just like to tone up a little and work on my midsection...and thighs. They’re definitely larger than they ought to be.” After a brief pause, he continued listing off his catalogue of faults. “Maybe my arms too, they are looking a bit flabby. Honestly, just everything would be fantastic.” Jaskier finished his rambling with a pained smile pasted onto his face. ‘That was horrible, but at least he isn’t running in the other direction,’ he thought, that dangerous feeling of hope filling his chest.

‘Fuck,’ thought Geralt. ‘That was horrible, but at least now I know what he thinks about himself.’ Taking a cleansing breath, Geralt responded. “So form over function. Okay, we can do that.” Geralt paused, before saying, “However, you are pretty trim to begin with, so there shouldn’t be too much work to do.”

Jaskier snorted at Geralt’s comment. “Thank you Geralt, but I’m not paying you so you don’t need to lie to preserve my feelings. I’m a big boy, I can take it.”

Geralt huffed in annoyance, trying to keep his temper in check. “I’m not. I’m a professional and wouldn’t lie about that.” Before Jaskier could protest, Geralt asked, “Do you have a routine already in place?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, letting that conversation go...for now. Geralt would find out what terrible shape he was in very shortly. “Besides walking to my car?” Jaskier asked, trying to diffuse the tension. When Geralt did not look amused, Jaskier sighed and prepared himself to answer honestly. “I haven’t consistently worked out for a few months. Before that I did a two mile run everyday and did body-weight training at home. When I was in high school I was a dancer and did track occasionally; however, I’ve really let myself go recently, so don’t expect too much.”

Geralt clenched his jaw, trying to keep his words inside his brain instead of out in the world where they desired to be. “It sounds like you are athletic. Your build is also athletic. I’m sure you’ll do fine, so stop putting yourself down.” Not allowing for any argument, Geralt asked, “How will you reward yourself for reaching your goals?”

The younger man paused, shocked at the seemingly simple question. “Reward myself? Why, for doing something that I need to do? That makes no sense, Geralt.” 

Geralt sensed that Jaskier was getting worked up by all of these questions, so instead of pressing the question he replied, “We can discuss that later. That should be it for the questions, so if you want we can head to the gym.”

Jaskier’s head shot up, looking perplexed. “Wait, what? That’s it? That can’t be it, you didn’t ask the most important question.”

Sighing, Geralt re-opened his book to the page with all of Jaskier’s information. “And what question would that be?”

Feeling put on the spot, Jaskier wet his lips before proceeding to bite them. “You asked me every fucking question under the sun except the reason that I’m here. You didn’t ask...you didn’t ask how much I weigh.” Jaskier fell nearly silent by the end of his unasked question, avoiding Geralt’s gaze like the plague. 

Geralt sighed. He had debated with himself whether he should ask about his weight, knowing that it was a delicate topic. He should have known that Jaskier would pick up on it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” mumbled Geralt.

Jaskier wished that the ground would swallow him up, never to be seen again. This was one of the worst moments of his life, but he knew what he had to do. “I have to. Otherwise you won’t be able to tell if I have made any progress.”

Unfortunately, Jaskier made a valid point. “It would be difficult, but I would find another way if it made you more comfortable.”

Jaskier shuddered. “No, I-um-I can tell you. Just, just give me a moment.” After a few seconds, Jaskier shook his head angrily. “Fuck, I can’t say it. I’m sorry, just give me a second and I can do it.”

Geralt shook his head, feeling the corners of his eyes begin to prick. “Jask, it’s okay. You really don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do!” Jaskier shouted, cutting off Geralt. “I’m sorry, just...can I write it down? I just can’t say it.”

Instead of saying yes, Geralt just passed him an empty post-it note and a pen. Jaskier looked at the blank paper with the most serious expression that Geralt had seen grace his face. After a minute of staring, Jaskier quickly scrawled a number onto the page before tossing it in Geralt’s general direction. “There. Take it,” said Jaskier in a monotone voice. 

Taking the paper, Geralt turns it over to read the number written on the other side. 193. Geralt was surprised that it was that high of a number. Jaskier sure didn’t look it, but if he said this was how much he weighed, Geralt believed him. “Okay, thank you for sharing that with me.” Putting down his pen, he looked back up at Jaskier. He hadn’t moved and looked like he was on the brink of tears. “Are you okay?”

Letting out a deep breath, Jaskier looked up, surprised at the question. “That’s all that you have to say?”

Geralt furrowed his brow, thinking wryly that he would develop wrinkles prematurely at this rate. “What else would I say?” Jaskier just stared at him with an expression of incomprehension splayed across his face. “It’s just a number. You look fine, but since it means a lot to you I’ll set you up with a fitness program.”

The brunette stayed still, not quite understanding what was happening. What did Geralt mean that it didn’t matter? And he said that Jaskier looked good? This was too much. It had been so long since someone had told him that he looked...adequate. Honestly, Jaskier wanted to believe him, but he couldn’t. Not yet. If he let himself believe and then Geralt told him it was all a lie...his heart just couldn’t take that. “Right. Er, thanks?”

Geralt grunted in response, before checking his watch. “Ready to go to the gym?”

Jaskier, still struck dumb, just nodded.

Geralt looked him over with a concerned gaze. “Are you good to drive?”

Letting out a dry laugh, Jaskier said, “Yeah, I’m good. Just-” He paused, unsure of what to say. “Yeah, I’ll meet you there.” Grabbing his bags, Jaskier ran from the room and headed towards his car. 

Left alone in his room, Geralt lowered his head onto his desk. Fuck, that was incredibly draining. How did Jaskier keep up his happy demeanor when he was fighting all of these demons? Turning towards the door, Geralt hoped that the little words that he could form would help Jaskier see himself for what he was: brilliant. Grabbing his bag, he headed towards his car; the day wasn’t over yet and he had a friend to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read my work! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below and smash that kudos button.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go to the gym...again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! I hope that you are all having a wonderful week. Thanks again to Processpending, my ever brilliant beta. Enjoy the chapter!

Jaskier sat in his car staring at the gym doors 50 feet away, with the events of the past hour swirling through his head. He didn’t understand why Geralt would say those kind things to him. The older man was meant to be acting as his personal trainer, so why was he filling him with false hope? Maybe that was his training style? Positive reinforcement, or something like that. 

Hitting his head against the steering wheel, Jaskier groaned in frustration. It was hard to hear Geralt say that he looked good when he knew it couldn’t possibly be true. When the other man had said that he had an “athletic build” and that he was already “pretty trim”, Jaskier almost had a heart attack. Geralt was saying all the things that he wanted people to think when they looked at him. It didn’t help matters that Jaskier had a huge crush on his new friend. 

And then of course he had to ruin it by bringing up his weight. Geralt had been willing to let him off the hook, but he  _ had _ to press the issue. To be fair, Geralt had been a complete professional on the matter, not even blinking when the number was set in front of him. He had even denied that there was anything wrong with the number, even though Jaskier knew that it was placed firmly in the overweight section of the BMI chart for a man of his height. Clenching his fist, Jaskier counted to ten, trying to regulate his breathing and rising panic. It would all be fine. He just had to wait for Geralt to show up, start a new fitness regime, and lose enough weight before Thanksgiving. No pressure!

Jaskier was knocked out of his ruminations when he heard a tap on his car door. Turning his head towards the noise, he saw Geralt peering at him through the window, a confused expression plastered on his face. “You good?” He asked.

Instead of verbalizing his answer, Jaskier lifted up a single hand and stuck his thumb up. Lowering his arm, he unlocked the car door and kicked it open with his foot, all while keeping his head down on the steering wheel. He peeled his body from the seat with all the melodramatic energy that he could summon on short notice. Shifting his focus, he saw Geralt examining him with a seemingly unimpressed air. “I’ve seen my daughter do the same exact thing while getting up for school in the morning.”

Jaskier spluttered indignantly, trying to hold back his laughter. To be honest, Geralt was not wrong; he was definitely acting a decade younger than he was. “I  _ resent  _ that good sir! Maturity is my middle name you rogue!” He allowed himself to stop his performance when he spotted the corners of Geralt’s mouth curling upwards.

“Alright Shakespeare, follow me.” Without another word, Geralt walked towards the doors. Jaskier grabbed his gym bag before following him, silently reassuring himself that things would be alright. Geralt wouldn’t be cruel and his problems would be solved sooner rather than later. 

Upon entering the gym, Jaskier saw Geralt talking to the owner of the gym. Jaskier joined Geralt in front of the main desk, all the while struggling to remember his name; Lawrence was coming to mind, but didn’t seem quite right. The red-haired man saw him approaching and waved his hand as a hello. “Welcome back, Jaskier! It’s nice to see you again.” The man gave Geralt an indecipherable look while sporting a sharp smile. Jaskier was  _ definitely  _ missing something. 

Geralt glared back at the man (Lucas?) and punched him in his shoulder with a grunt. “Stop,” he growled at the red-head, who was lightly rubbing his shoulder in the spot where Geralt had punched him. “Jaskier, meet my brother, Lambert.”

Lambert! That was his name! After the momentary exhilaration of recalling the other man’s name, he paused in surprise. “Wait, brother?! He’s your brother?” Jaskier proceeded to inspect the two men, searching for any hints that they were related. Excluding that both men were built like a Greek statue, they did not share any physical similarities. 

Lambert smirked. “Yeah. Why do you think teachers from Redania get a killer discount?”

Jaskier shrugged, filled with uncertainty. “I don’t know! An agreement with the PTA? The kindness of your heart? Blackmail? Sorry that “related to Geralt” wasn’t my first guess!”

Lambert chuckled lowly while shoving at Geralt’s shoulder. “I like him.” Turning his attention back to Jaskier, Lambert said, “Sorry for keeping Geralt. Have a good workout.” 

Jaskier wanted to ask more questions but Geralt signaled him towards the changing room. After moving away from the desk, Geralt sighed before turning back towards Jaskier. “I’m sorry about that. Lambert is an asshole and he can’t believe that I’m...socializing.”

Ah, so that explained the weird faces that Lambert made. Geralt was not exactly the most gregarious person to walk the Earth. “Don’t worry about it. We should get started.” With that, Jaskier entered the changing room and froze, coming to a horrifying realization: he would have to change in front of Geralt. The room was relatively empty because several people were still at work, which left him a few dark corners to choose from. He cleared his throat before making eye-contact with Geralt. “Umm...I’ll just meet you out there in five?”

Geralt grunted in agreement, before heading into the back of the room and opening a locker. ‘Thank God,’Jaskier thought before heading into his tiny corner. He had learned his mistake yesterday and had bought new clothes immediately after yesterday’s gym disaster. These clothes were less...revealing and should lessen the possibility of embarrassing himself. Methodically shucking off his clothes and avoiding his reflection, Jaskier found himself ready to go two minutes early. After stuffing his things into a locker, Jaskier grabbed his water bottle and phone before heading to their meeting spot.

Walking out of the room, he found Geralt fiddling with his phone. It looked as if he were texting someone, but it was impossible to tell from so far away. At that moment Geralt looked up and waved Jaskier over. Letting out one last nervous breath, Jaskier straightened his shoulders and walked towards the bench. Upon reaching his destination, Jaskier plastered a smile onto his face, hoping that he looked more excited than he felt. “So, what’s on the docket coach?” He asked, trying to lighten the mood with his words. 

Geralt looked him over before pulling out his notebook. “We are going to do some exercises to gauge your current fitness level so I can create a program tailored to you.” 

Jaskier blanched at Geralt’s words. This was going to be a nightmare. “I already told you that I’m horribly out of shape, isn’t that enough?” Jaskier snapped back, suddenly feeling defensive. He had answered all of Geralt’s questions truthfully and now he wanted to see how pathetic he was with his own eyes? So much for him not being cruel. 

Geralt looked up with soft eyes. “I think that you are selling yourself short. I also need quantitative data. ‘Horribly out of shape’ is qualitative.” After a slight pause, Geralt continued. “If I don’t do this, then we don’t have a baseline to work off of and we can’t measure your progress.”

Jaskier sighed, knowing deep down that Geralt was right. Without knowing his limits, Geralt could not help him. That didn’t make it an easy pill to swallow. “Fine, what do I have to do?”

“First, we need to warm up and get your body ready for movement.” Standing up, Geralt led them to a treadmill and set up a five minute walking routine. 

Stepping onto the treadmill, Jaskier grumbled under his breath, uncomfortable with this entire set up. There were too many people to watch him fail. He would just have to do his utmost to pass every test. 

After five minutes passed, Geralt stopped the machine. “Alright take a quick rest. We are going to start with cardio and I need you to have a resting heart rate.”

Hopping off of the machine, Jaskier pinned him with an inquisitive look. “If I needed a resting heart rate to start with then wasn’t the warm up a waste of time?”

Geralt gave him an unamused look. “One time a friend of mine didn't warm up and went straight into her routine. She strained a muscle and was laid up for weeks.”

“Right,” responded Jaskier. He couldn’t afford to be laid up for weeks! “Your way it is then.”

After waiting for a couple more minutes, Geralt signaled for Jaskier to give him his wrist. Another minute passed while Geralt took his pulse and noted his heart rate. Jaskier saw the number but had no knowledge as to whether it was good or not. Finally, he was asked to get back onto the machine. Setting the treadmill at a jogging speed, Geralt said, “Run at this speed for as long as your breath stays relatively even. I will be monitoring you to make sure that you don’t go too long.”

Jaskier felt relieved when the task was explained to him. He had excellent breath control between his years of running track and singing so running was something that he excelled at. Even if he wasn’t currently up to his normal standards, his cardio should be adequate. Letting himself feel optimistic, he set himself to the task of jogging for at least a mile. 

Geralt watched Jaskier, taking the time to look him over. He was wearing baggier gym clothes today, making it more difficult to evaluate his form. Geralt had not been lying when he said that Jaskier was athletically built. As Jaskier ran, Geralt could make out powerful thighs straining underneath the cloth of his shorts. The man was well-built, with shoulders nearly as broad as Geralt’s, showing hints of muscular shoulders and firm arms. Yes, he was a bit softer now than he had been at the beginning of the school year, but he looked fantastic.

Looking at the timer on his phone, he also noted that Jaskier’s cardio was incredible. The younger man had been going at a brisk pace for several minutes and did not seem to be tiring out, with his breaths still coming out in rhythmic puffs. Geralt waited until Jaskier hit the mile mark before saying, “Stop.”

Jaskier looked up at Geralt in confusion. “Why? I’m doing perfectly fine! I could keep going.”

Geralt sighed at Jaskier’s reluctance to get off the treadmill, praying that they would not have a repeat of yesterday. “Yes, I can tell. Your stamina is fantastic, but I need to take your pulse so we can do the rest of the exercises.”

After a moment of thought, Jaskier acknowledged that Geralt might have a point. There was only so much time they had together before Geralt needed to get home to Ciri and he had made his point. He could run a mile with no problem...it was the other stuff that would be problematic. 

Hopping off the machine, he presented his wrist to Geralt with a dramatic flourish. The older man rolled his eyes before taking the proffered wrist and taking his pulse. After a minute passed, Geralt noted the number in his notebook before glancing back up at Jaskier. “You have excellent cardio.”

Jaskier preened at the compliment. “I have a singer’s lungs Geralt! My breath control is out of this world. It’s the rest of the exercises that you should be worried about.”

Geralt bit his tongue, holding back the screech of frustration building in the back of his throat. “Hmm, we’ll see.”

Spinning on his heel, Geralt headed towards the weight lifting section of the gym. Jaskier followed, feeling his stomach drop upon entering the room. It looked like his strength was going to be tested next. He had felt much more confident in his cardio skills, because Valdo had been right yesterday; he had lost a lot of muscle tone over the past few months. There was no way that this would go nearly as well. 

Geralt led them to a secluded area of the gym where there was a mat already in place. “I had Lambert set it up,” softly explained Geralt. Suddenly, there was a bottle of Gatorade pushed into his face. “Hydrate,” Geralt commanded, leaving little room for argument. Jaskier took the bottle, wincing upon reading the label and realizing that it was regular Gatorade, not Gatorade Zero. He opened his mouth, prepared to protest, but one look at Geralt’s face made him decide that it was just best to bite the bullet. 

After he took a swig, he gingerly placed the bottle on the ground. “Okay, what’s next?” Jaskier asked, bracing himself for the worst. 

For a moment, Geralt was distracted by the red-colored tint left by the Gatorade, glistening on Jaskier’s lips. “Pull yourself together, asshole,” Geralt internally chastised himself. “Push-Ups.” Geralt pulled out his phone and opened a metronome app. The ticking permeated the area, sounding like a clock counting down the seconds until his doom. Jaskier fucking hated it. “Do as many push-ups as you can to the beat of this rhythm. Can you get into a push-up position so I can check your form?”

Jaskier indignantly grumbled under his breath, “I’ve done push-ups before, Geralt,” but complied without major argument. 

Getting into position was horrible. As Jaskier held himself in a plank position he could feel the rolls of his stomach drooping towards the floor, like a malformed Play Doh creation. At least he had worn larger clothes today so it would be less obvious to Geralt and anyone else watching. Geralt inspected him for a moment before saying, “Perfect. You can start whenever you are ready.”

Jaskier blew a piece of hair out of his face before starting the pushups. Keeping his movements to the tempo, Jaskier performed the monotonous task set before him, using his energy to pump his arms to the beat. For the first ten, Jaskier executed the exercise with perfect precision, but at that point his arms began to grow tired. ‘Fuck, don’t be a lazy asshole! Keep going,’ Jaskier internally shouted at himself. He was able to eek out another seven before becoming unable to keep up with the rhythm. With the seventeenth push-up, Jaskier bent his knees and curled into child’s pose while breathing out unevenly. Fuck, it was even worse than he thought. The joke about his only exercise being the journey to and from his car started to ring true in his ears. There was no mystery as to why he was so out of shape. He had not even made an attempt to stop this before letting it get out of hand and now he could barely do 17 push-ups. There was no way that Geralt would ever be interested in someone as pathetic as him.

Geralt took out his notebook and wrote down the number 17. “Well-done.”

Jaskier scoffed before looking up at Geralt’s face. “Well-done? That’s half the amount I used to be able to do. Told you I was out of shape,” Jaskier snapped back before lowering himself back to the ground. 

Geralt shrugged his shoulders. “Technically 17 push-ups is within the average range for a man your age. I told you that you were selling yourself short.”

Jaskier returned Geralt’s shrug whilst lifting himself off the ground. “Sure, Geralt. What next?” He really wanted this portion of testing to be over already. 

Geralt sighed, knowing that Jaskier would not believe him right now. That was fine, because he would keep chipping away at his horrible self-image until he could see past the mirage. He was nothing if not stubborn. “You have a choice between sit-ups and the core muscle strength test.”

The younger man’s facial expression shifted into one of confusion. “I don’t know what that last one is,” Jaskier finally replied, voice filled with uncertainty. 

“You basically hold a plank for a minute and then hold it for another two minutes while holding up one of your arms or legs at a time. It tests your core stability and strength.”

Jaskier considered his options. On one hand, sit-ups would definitely enhance his stomach fat, even with the baggy clothes that he was wearing. He was wary of trying that exercise, unsure if he could perform it properly with the mound of fat collecting over his stomach. On the other hand, the stability test sounded difficult and he hadn’t done planks in years. After careful deliberation, Jaskier responded, “I’ll try the second one.” It was new, but he might have a better chance of completing it.

Geralt nodded and said, “Alright. Get into a plank position on your elbows.” Jaskier lowered himself to the floor and got into the position, keeping one knee on the floor until Geralt started the timer. “Okay, start...now.” Jaskier lifted up his knee and concentrated on keeping good form.

The test was going well until he had to lift an arm and a leg at the same time. When Geralt gave him the next instruction, he had tried his hardest to complete the task, but instead found himself face first on the floor. There went his hope of not making an embarrassment of himself.

Feeling movement beside him, he saw Geralt kneeling down near his face. “You good?” He asked while offering a hand to Jaskier. 

Taking his hand, Jaskier hissed back, letting his frustrations out. “Am I good? Oh, I’m fucking fantastic! I just love being reminded of how much I’ve let myself go, especially in a public place. I’m really  _ thriving  _ right now!” Jaskier took a deep breath, trying to stop the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The last thing he needed was to cry in front of Geralt at the gym two days in a row. 

Geralt stepped slowly towards him, like someone cautiously approaching a nervous animal. “You actually did a fantastic job. Not many people I work with get that far the first time around. You aren’t nearly as out of shape as you think you are. Honestly, you’re in better shape than most of the people in this gym.”

Jaskier paused, listening to Geralt’s words. He didn’t think that Geralt would lie to him, but it was an impossibility that he could be telling the truth. Maybe Geralt really believed the things that he was saying.  _ No, he’s just too kind to tell you that you are a fatass _ , the Voice retorted. Flinching at the brutal honesty, Jaskier silently agreed. Geralt had to see how fat he had gotten, because it was impossible to miss. He was just being nice and Jaskier would just need to deal with that. 

Searching Jaskier’s face, Geralt saw that his words had once again fallen on deaf ears. Sighing in defeat, he said, “I would like to do a few more baseline exercises. We can try squats, but that’s something we can incorporate another day. The flexibility evaluation is quick and then we can call it a day.” Jaskier nodded his head, too exhausted to verbally answer him.

Geralt led him through the flexibility tests quickly, noting that the younger man had fallen silent. It was eerie for Jaskier to fall silent for such a long time, as he usually filled the space around him with poetic words, but the younger man performed each task mechanically, succeeding at every test put before him. At the end of the tasks, Geralt walked over to Jaskier with an earnest expression on his face. “You did well. I am going to look over this and come up with a regular routine for you to follow, alright?” When Jaskier did not answer, Geralt tore out a piece of paper in his notebook and scrawled something across the page. “Here’s my phone number. Text me if you have any questions about dinner prep tonight or even if you just want to talk. You aren’t just my client, you…” After a brief pause, Geralt took a deep breath and said, “You’re my friend.”

Jaskier looked up, stunned at the words that came out of Geralt’s mouth. In the few months that they had known each other, Geralt had never called him a friend. Jaskier had called Geralt a friend several times, but never the other way around. A genuine smile spread across his face for the first time that day as he took the tiny slip of paper. “Right. Yeah, I’ll text you.” Jaskier turned around to leave, but at the last moment spun around to face Geralt. “Thanks. For staying...and helping. It means a lot.”

Geralt mirrored Jaskier’s smile, feeling incredibly touched that the other man appreciated his friendship. “Of course. That’s what friends do.” The two men stared at each other, filled with longing until a sound of weights falling to the ground dragged them out of the moment. Geralt awkwardly cleared his throat. “Right, text me.” With that, the older man briskly walked to the changing room. 

Jaskier watched him walk away, stunned at what had just happened. Did they just have a moment? It sure felt like they had, but that wasn’t possible. Geralt was so far out of his league and he would never downgrade to someone like himself. Sighing, Jaskier concluded that his romantic little heart was just imagining what he wanted to see, but that wouldn’t stop him from texting Geralt. That’s what friends do, and if he wanted to delude himself into thinking that Geralt could be attracted to him...well, hope was dangerous, but it could be fun while the illusion lasted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you guys enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again for continuing to read this story. Your comments and love are what keep me going! Leave your comments and kudos below :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier goes grocery shopping and Ciri interrogates her father...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello amazing readers! I hope that you had a lovely week. I am going to start posting on Friday nights because I have started working in Salem, MA for spooky season and I need to be there early Saturday mornings. Also, for future reference, anytime something is said in a text message it will be surrounded by <>. Thanks again to Processpending, my amazing Beta! I hope that you enjoy the chapter!

Jaskier pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex thirty minutes later with a clearer head and a brighter attitude. The first day was always going to be the worst, but he had made it through, Geralt hadn’t left him in a fit of disgust, and he had gotten the older man’s number. All in all, Jaskier counted this as a minor win. 

Grabbing his things, Jaskier hopped out of his car and headed towards the front door. He juggled his bag, patting his pockets to find his apartment keys. Perhaps he would eventually learn to keep his keys on hand whilst walking between his car and the door, but that day was  _ not  _ today. “Ah ha!” He cheered in success, fingertips skimming the outline of keys at the bottom of his bag. Pulling them out, he unlocked the door and felt the final wave of anxiety leave his body. He was home. 

Many people, including his family, would look at the tiny apartment and scoff at its size, but Jaskier had never loved a single place more. As a child he had grown up in a large house where private cleaners and nannies roamed the halls; a home with several empty rooms that had no discernable purpose except as something to gloat over. Yes, his new apartment was nothing like that; it was small and the paint peeled off the corners of the walls, but it was  _ his _ . After living with Valdo, he hadn’t thought that he would have a place to call his own ever again. The fact that he had a safe place that belonged to him was a calming balm on his worst days.

Setting down his bag, Jaskier headed to the bathroom to take a shower. In his humble opinion, the worst parts of working out were the smell that came afterwards and the sweat that poured out of his body. The smell could be partially mitigated by using copious amounts of deodorant, but no one ever smelled  _ good _ after a workout. Sweating was also impossible to avoid and  _ no one _ looked good after a workout. Any celebrities who did were just freak outliers of nature.

He hopped into the shower, blatantly ignoring the mirror behind him. Fuck, he was sore. Between the intense workout from yesterday and the tests today, Jaskier was certain that he would have difficulty moving tomorrow. Maybe he should run through some gentle stretches before heading to bed. It became increasingly apparent with every passing day that he was not getting any younger and his body did not appreciate any form of unexpected activity. 

Listening to the music blaring from his phone speakers, Jaskier lathered up his body wash and began to methodically scrub his body. He attempted to sing along to the familiar lyrics, but found himself lost in thought about the events of the day. A lot had happened in a short period of time and he was unsure how to react to it all. 

Apparently, the best way to lose weight was to eat more? To be honest, Jaskier was still uncertain that this diet would work, but he had promised Geralt to at least give it a try. He cursed himself for making such a foolhardy promise, especially with the limited time he had to slim down, but he just could not say no to Geralt. In that moment, the other man had looked so earnest and concerned that Jaskier had said yes, damn the consequences. Anyways, the man  _ was  _ a professional and had to know something with a physique like that. 

Nevertheless, it felt strange eating such large meals after only packing salads and apples for so long. Yes, he had fallen off the wagon and started gorging himself more frequently, but he hadn’t  _ consciously  _ eaten large meals in a long time. After eating the tabouli for lunch, he had felt as though he was about to burst. Even now, the thought of making something for dinner brought doubts to his mind as the Voice grew louder and more bothersome.

_ Jules, you really shouldn’t be eating this much. You were barely able to complete the exercises today at the gym and the extra weight isn’t doing you any favors _ , the Voice lectured using a holier than thou tone.

But no, that couldn’t be right. Geralt had  _ explicitly  _ said that a person of his stature should be eating this amount of food.  _ Yes, someone of your stature, Julian. You are quite robust, are you not? _ The Voice countered. He flinched at that comment, having not even thought of that possibility, but upon further contemplation that accusation made no sense. Yes he was fat, but Geralt was helping him to lose the weight, not gain more. He wouldn’t sabotage him like that, because Geralt was his friend.

Trying his best to ignore the Voice’s comments, Jaskier stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist before heading back to his room. Opening his dresser, he picked out his old sweatpants and college t-shirt, both of which were purposefully bought to be absurdly large on him even at his heaviest. _ Not quite large enough, I’d say _ , the Voice spat out as he pulled them on. 

“Alright, that’s it,” Jaskier grumbled under his breath. He needed a distraction to make sure that he didn’t break his new promise to Geralt. Grabbing his phone, Jaskier opened up a new message and typed <Hey,> before pressing send. Putting down his phone, he headed to his kitchen to look over the new recipes that Geralt had provided him with.

The packet was comprehensive, providing several simple recipes and additional websites if he wanted to switch things up. He was actually an excellent cook, but he hadn’t made anything complicated in years. Valdo had been in charge of making meals because Jaskier was notorious for making rich and fattening foods. The last time he had cooked for Valdo, the older man had shouted, “For fucks sakes, Julian! It’s bad enough you’re getting pudgy, now you’re trying to fatten me up to make yourself feel better! Pathetic.” After that, he hadn’t been allowed to make food for either of them. 

Jaskier shook his head as though the motion itself would banish the thoughts from his mind. It wouldn’t be like that this time. Geralt had provided  _ healthy  _ recipes for him to make and he would follow them to a T. However, upon flipping through the recipes, he became increasingly unsure about how “healthy” they were. They all involved a lot of food, thus a  _ lot  _ of calories. After careful deliberation, he found a recipe that didn’t seem  _ too  _ unhealthy; it was called Empañapita. He had never heard of it, but it looked interesting and safe enough.

After double checking the recipe, he opened his cabinets to take out the ingredients only to find them completely empty. For a moment, Jaskier was shocked into inaction, staring at the bare shelves in front of him. It made sense that he wouldn’t have much food in his house, with his limited food intake, but he had never really  _ noticed  _ how...sad it looked until this moment. When did he start living like this?

Placing his hands on his hips, Jaskier stared at the floor, lost deep in thought until he heard his phone vibrate. He walked over to the counter and found that he had a new message from Geralt! <Jaskier?> Geralt asked. Fuck, he was such an idiot! He didn’t even say that it was him texting. Jaskier immediately typed back, <Yes! Sorry about that! I forgot that you didn’t have my number yet. Sorry for bothering you.>

Setting down his phone, Jaskier went on a hunt for paper and pen. If he was going to try this new diet that Geralt had put him on, he was going to need supplies. After five minutes, he finally found some in the drawer under his television. He wasn’t sure why past him had thought that was a good spot to store it, but that was not his top priority at the moment. 

Returning to the table, he discovered that Geralt had texted him back again. That was surprising, especially because he had indicated in his last text that the other man didn’t  _ have  _ to respond. Jaskier knew that he could be a bit much in large doses, and the poor man had spent most of his day helping him out. Geralt deserved a break from him. Keeping this in mind, Jaskier checked the message, but vowed that he wouldn’t pester the man if he didn’t ask any direct questions.

Opening up his phone he found Geralt’s new message: <You’re not bothering me. I’m just picking up some pizza for Ciri and I. What are you up to?>

Jaskier snorted, amused, but not surprised, that Geralt texted him using full punctuation and correct grammar. He texted back, <OOOO PIZZA <3 <3 OMG MY FAVE!!> before pressing send. He laughed, imagining Geralt’s befuddled reaction upon reading that text, but his mirth quickly faded upon remembering that he had  _ just  _ told himself that he wouldn’t bother the other man. Slightly panicking, Jaskier texted back, <Sorry! I am just making a grocery list. Turns out that I’m missing quite a few ingredients for dinner :/ >

Turning his attention back to the task at hand, Jaskier wrote down the ingredients he needed to make the Empañapita and then perused the other recipes for other ingredients he would need for the rest of the week. It was incredibly stressful to look at the amount of food that he would be purchasing and consuming in the near future, but he had made a promise and he would stick to it. The world was a shitty enough place without people breaking promises.

Jaskier rubbed the spot between his eyes where a headache was beginning to form when he heard his phone buzz three times in a minute. It was probably Geralt texting him back, but he needed to finish making the list now or her would lose his nerve. After another few minutes, Jaskier was satisfied that he had included everything that he would need for the upcoming week and he picked up his phone. 

He was pleased to see that he was correct; Geralt  _ had  _ texted him three times. The first text was relatively short, only saying, <Yeah it’s one of my favorites also. Pizza is always a win in my household.> Jaskier’s mouth started to water at the thought of pizza, but he promptly shut down the thought of ordering a pie. ‘You can eat, just not like a pig,’ he thought to himself.

The second text was a little longer. <Jask, I told you that you could text me if you wanted to, so there is no reason to be so apologetic. You have no reason to be sorry.> He smiled at that message, feeling a warm niggling in his chest whenever he thought about how deeply Geralt cared about people. 

The final text was the longest of them all. <Grocery shopping is the worst. Do you want any help making up a shopping list? I have a list that I use for all of the basics that I tailor each week. I can send it to you if you’d like? What did you decide to make for tonight?>

Wow, that was a lot of questions. Jaskier twiddled his thumbs while considering his answer. He didn’t really need a list now because he had already written one out, but maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have one on hand in the future. With his mind made up, Jaskier typed out his response: <I’m glad that you feel that way. I like texting you :) And yeah, I’d love that list for future use, but I’ve already written out a list for today. I was planning on making the Empañapita!> He hit send before heading back into his room to change into street clothes. 

As he pulled on his favorite flannel, Geralt texted him back. <Good choice! That’s another favorite of Ciri’s. You have good taste. Have you tried it before?>

Jaskier blushed a deep red. Geralt thought that he had good taste! Maybe that extended to things other than food. Looking down at his oversized flannel and overly tight jeans he discounted this notion, but it was a nice thought while it lasted. Grabbing his keys, Jaskier headed to the car with the intent of going grocery shopping. It couldn’t be that hard!

* * *

* * *

* * *

Geralt walked into the house carrying one sausage and onion pizza and a side of garlic knots. Seconds after passing the threshold, he heard the sound of Ciri rushing down the steps, a sound that mimicked a stampede of wild animals. “DAD!! YOU BETTER HAVE THOSE GARLIC KNOTS! ESPECIALLY BECAUSE YOU FORGOT THEM YESTERDAY!” She bellowed down the stairwell. 

Chuckling lowly at his daughter’s antics, Geralt shut the door behind him. After the shitshow at the gym the day before, he had completely forgotten his promise to pick up pizza for dinner. Ciri had been completely unimpressed and nearly threw a mutiny. With a promise of lasagna that evening and pizza the next night, he had been spared. “I promised that I wouldn’t.” 

She perused the mountain of food in his hands and snatched the garlic knots from the top. “Yeah, well that’s what you said yesterday! Let’s eat. I have something very important to discuss with you.”

A shiver worked its way up his spine, imagining every possible conversation that was about to occur, but he followed her towards the table. “What’s wrong? Do I need to talk to the administrators? Did you get into another fight? Should I call your mother?”

Ciri screwed up her face in indignation. “Why do you always assume that  _ I  _ did something?” Geralt shrugged, unable to find the words to explain himself, but before he could try to defend himself, Ciri cut him off. “Nevermind. Not the point,” at which point her face began to sport a knowing smile. “How was your workout?”

Raising his brow, Geralt stared at his daughter. “ _ That’s  _ the important thing you wanted to ask me about?” When she didn’t answer him, he sighed. “It was fine...Why?” He asked, suspicion coloring his voice.

“Oh, no reason.” She grabbed a slice of pizza before she continued. “Except, Lambert texted me asking if I knew a Julian?” 

“Ah fuck,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face. She was not going to let this go. Ciri was incredibly tenacious and would continue to pester him until she was satisfied with the answer that he provided her. 

“And you get on me about cursing,” Ciri replied with a mouth full of pizza. She swallowed upon seeing the glare that her father had leveled at her. “Sorry,” she said with a sweet smile. “Anyways, I told him that I didn’t know a Julian, but then I asked him to describe what he looked like.” Geralt groaned, already knowing where this was heading. “Tall, handsome, blue eyes, talks a lot..” She trailed off, giving her father a meaningful look. “Sounds a lot like Dara’s description of Mr. Pankratz.”

Geralt blushed a deep red, cursing his fair complexion for giving him away when Ciri began to crow in victory. “Alright, that’s enough! Yes, he was talking about Jaskier. What else do you want to know?”

Ciri raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly searching for the next question with which to interrogate him. “So you go to the gym together now? And you smile at him? Why didn’t you tell me?” She finished her line of questioning with a whiny tone, looking betrayed.

He sighed, unsure how to proceed. There was no way that he could outright tell his daughter that Jaskier had an eating disorder and he was helping him try to form healthier habits. Not only was he a teacher in her school district, but he had no right to tell anyone. It was not his story to tell. Instead, he decided to tell her as much of the truth as he could. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you would read too much into it. He asked for help forming a new workout program and I told him that we could start working out together.”

Silence spread over the table while Ciri digested the information provided to her. “So you’re not doing other workouts?” Geralt fixed her with a confused look, uncertain of what she was trying to convey. “You know…” she fumbled with her hands, looking a little awkward, “like...cardio…” 

As her sentence trailed off, Geralt’s eyes grew wide in horror as he choked on his pizza. After he saved himself from choking on his dinner, he looked up at his daughter who was gasping for air as she laughed hysterically. “Ciri!” He growled, feeling a pit of embarrassment swallow him whole. “Please,  _ never  _ ask me about my sex life again!” He begged as Ciri continued to howl in laughter. 

Geralt was distracted from his growing horror when his phone chimed. Quickly taking it out of his pocket, he saw that Jaskier had answered his previous text. <Of course I have good taste! Have you not seen my lovely wardrobe?> That text was followed by a picture of a grocery store shelf covered in several brands of spaghetti sauce with the caption, <Why are there so many types of tomato sauce :’(> He chuckled at the messages, almost hearing them spoken in Jaskier’s melodramatic but dulcet tones, until he heard Ciri clear her throat.

Shifting his gaze from the screen to his daughter, he knew that this conversation was far from over. “Is that your new boyfriend?” Ciri asked as she vibrated from the excitement. Resigned to his interrogation, he put down his phone and vowed to text Jaskier back after he had finished reigning Ciri back in.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He is my co-worker and friend. We have already had this discussion.” After a moment’s pause he quickly added, “And no, we are not having sex, so please never ask that again.”

Ciri raised her eyebrow skeptically, scanning his face for any hint of a lie. “Alright, I believe that you are not  _ currently  _ dating, but I don’t believe that it is for lack of  _ wanting  _ to date him.” Geralt tried to protest, but Ciri cut him off. “You  _ smiled _ when you looked at your phone. You never smile like that when you text people.”

“I smile,” he protested weakly, knowing that his reply was a lie. He could smile, but he didn’t do it often.

“Right,” she said, with a knowing look in her eyes. “Anyways, I have to finish my homework, so I am going to take the garlic knots to my room and let you keep texting your new boyfriend.” Before he could protest, Ciri grabbed the garlic knots and dashed out of the room. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he bellowed up the steps, to which he received no reply. Groaning in relief, he re-opened his phone to find a new text message. <Grocery stores are the final ring of Hell. I’ve never been this miserable in my entire life, I swear it, Geralt.> Chuckling under his breath, Geralt decided that he should check in on Jaskier. Grocery stores were horrible, yes, but they were probably even worse for Jaskier.

Before he could second guess himself, he pressed the call button and waited for Jaskier to pick up. It took four rings, but eventually Jaskier picked up with a, “Geralt?” Sounding both cheerful and confused. “You actually call people on their cellphone?” Jaskier inquired, sounding rather lighthearted.

Geralt blushed. “That’s what a phone is technically for,” he replied.

He could hear Jaskier’s laugh through the phone and smiled. “Well, to what do I owe this lovely chat? Already miss me?”

Geralt choked out a laugh. “No, of course not! I mean...I enjoy your presence, but I’m not calling you because of that!” He pressed his fingers to his brow, cursing his inability to speak to other human beings. “I just wanted to see how you were doing with groceries. I know that shopping is the worst.”

There was a slight pause on the phone, before Jaskier spoke. “Ah, yes! It really is a jungle in there. Actually, that’s an insult to jungles everywhere, so scratch that last bit, but I am all finished now. Just heading back to the car so I can head home and make dinner.”

Geralt’s smile widened. It was hard to tell from a phone conversation, but it appeared that Jaskier had done well on his shopping trip. “That’s great! I just wanted to check in after the Circles of Hell comment.”

Jaskier chuckled before replying, “I’m not wrong about that. I am certain that waiting in lines is one of the punishments in Hell. I’m sure Dante wrote it in a footnote or something.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” A natural pause occurred in the conversation, alerting Geralt that it was probably time to hang up. “I guess I’ll go then, but text me if anything else comes up or if you want to chat. I’ll just be grading papers, so I won’t be too busy.”

“Right! I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that Jaskier hung up the phone. 

Geralt stayed seated in the kitchen mulling over the conversation that they’d just had. Jaskier had gone to a supermarket to buy extra ingredients. It seemed as though he would eat something substantial tonight after all. 

His suspicion was confirmed when Jaskier sent him a photo of his Empañapita two hours later with the caption, <My kitchen is a mess, but I made a masterpiece!> The photo brought a wave of peace to his mind. Maybe things would turn out alright after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope that you all enjoyed the chapter! If you are interested in the recipe that Jask made, [here](https://www.nhlbi.nih.gov/health/educational/wecan/eat-right/empanapita.htm) is the recipe that I based it on. Thanks again for reading! Please comment below and smash that kudos button!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Pris have a talk and Jask has a shocking revelation...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I hope that your week is going well! Here is the next chapter, betaed by Processpending. Enjoy!

The next day passed in a flurry of meetings and classroom fiascos that consumed all of Jaskier’s time, including his usual free period with Geralt. Instead of meeting up with Geralt as per usual, the music teacher spent his lunch speaking to Pris concerning an upcoming field trip. Even though it was common for Pris to join them for lunch, Geralt could not join them this time because lunch was doubling as an official meeting between the superintendent and a teacher.

If he were being honest with himself -- something that he frequently avoided doing -- he was happy that his schedule was jam packed today. The trip to the grocery store had taken much more out of him than he wanted to admit, both to himself and Geralt. There were so many brands of food. How was he supposed to suss out which were the healthiest versions of each? With his busy schedule, he did not have much time to sit fretting about something so mundane, but the anxiety stemming from his uncertainty thrummed through his veins. It was all he could do to tell himself to stop being pathetic and panicking about a normal trip to the grocery store.

As Jaskier took out his lunch, he saw Pris’ eyes widen in surprise. “What?” Jaskier asked defensively, whilst pulling out his utensils and an apple.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied in a clipped tone, gathering her papers that she needed for the meeting. 

“Uh, no, that’s the tone of voice you use when you want to act casual, but you’re actually nervous! What is it?”

Pris shook her head in defeat, eyes hooded and wary. “Your lunch just looks really good! What is it?”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow at her, knowing that she was not telling the full truth, but he did not want to get into a real argument at the moment. His body was still too sore from his new exercise routine to have the wherewithal to start an argument, let alone end one. “It’s called an empañapita. It’s a new recipe that Geralt gave me to try. Do you want some?”

She shook her head no, still looking a bit shocked. “No, I’m good, but thanks.” After a brief pause, she said, “Geralt gave you the recipe? Is that something you two do now?”

Jaskier swallowed a bite of his lunch, suddenly nervous about this line of questioning. “Yeah, it is actually. Why do you ask?”

She pinned him with a knowing look. “Because I know that he is _exactly_ your type and now you two are trading recipes. Pretty domestic of you.” She fell silent with a sly smile plastered on her face. 

He groaned knowing that she would continue to pester him until she got an answer that would please her. She might be his best friend, but he didn’t want to tell her about his new diet. Back in college, she had always gotten upset whenever he started dieting, constantly telling him that he didn’t need to. He didn’t want to upset her or make her angry at Geralt, so he deflected. “We are just friends Pris, nothing more. He just suggested that I try something new and I thought that it wasn’t a bad idea.”

Pris’ smile grew even larger, becoming blinding like the sun. “I’m glad you’re trying something new! Maybe you can make it for me sometime?” Even though she said it like a question, Jaskier knew that it was more of a request. “After all, you are the superior chef between us. Maybe you can make one of your famous pies?!”

Jaskier’s smile broke at the mention of pie, knowing that his diet wouldn’t allow for such a frivolous thing, but he couldn’t bear to rain on her parade by telling her that. She seemed so excited at the prospect of a fun dinner. “Maybe,” he replied, seeing this as the easiest way to dodge the question. “Now, aren’t we supposed to be discussing the field trip to the philharmonic?” His attempt of changing the subject surprisingly worked and soon they were discussing details for the upcoming excursion. 

He had been glad to see Pris, even if it was in a professional setting, but he had missed his daily lunch with Geralt. Deep inside he knew that it was silly of him to become so attached to the other man, but things were just...easier when Geralt was around. His gruff exterior hid a heart of gold and sharp wit that many people were not privy to. It excited Jaskier that this wonderful man continued to put up with his bullshit and give him chances to prove himself worthy of their budding friendship. A part of him had wanted Geralt to see him eat the food that had been prescribed to him; to do something that would make him proud. Hopefully, he would have that chance later at the gym.

* * *

* * *

* * *

To say that Geralt was surprised to find Priscilla sitting in his classroom after his free period would be the understatement of the year. He had just eaten a lonely lunch in the faculty room, wishing that Jaskier had been chattering away beside him. Not only did he miss the younger man, but he had wanted to surreptitiously check in on how he was doing. Even after the phone call the previous evening, he was unconvinced that Jaskier was actually okay post-grocery store trip. Something in his gut told him that it wouldn’t be that simple, and after a lifetime of that feeling saving his ass he had learned to trust it implicitly. Unfortunately, he did not have the chance to test his theory because Jaskier had spent his lunch in a meeting with Priscilla; however, none of that explained what she was doing sitting in his classroom. 

“Madam Superintendent, how can I help you?” Geralt asked while walking back to his desk. Although they had eaten lunch together, Jaskier had always been there to act as a buffer. They were not friends -- possibly acquaintances -- but they did not interact unless it had to do with school business, so he had no clue as to why she would turn up in his classroom unannounced. 

She cleared her throat and asked, “How did you do it?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at her, unsure what she was talking about. “I’m sorry, but you will need to be more specific.”

“He’s eating more than a salad or an apple for lunch voluntarily. I haven’t been able to coax him into packing larger meals ever since….” She trails off, looking troubled. “How?”

A glance at her eyes leaves Geralt stunned at the depth of emotion that he finds there. “Does this have to do with Valdo?”

If it were possible, Geralt would say that her eyes had grown even larger and were in danger of popping out of her head. “He _told_ you about Valdo?” She asked, incredulity oozing in her voice.

Geralt grunted, feeling put on the spot at this line of questioning. “No. There was an incident at the gym and I fixed it. Valdo won’t be showing up there again, trust me.”

All of the color had drained out of her face, leaving her usually rosy cheeks ashen with fear. “The gym? Jask hates the gym,” she whispered under her breath. “Fuck, what did Marx do to him?”

After a moment's consideration, Geralt sat behind his desk and clasped his hands in front of him. “Marx was harassing him. I showed up and saw him...prodding at Jask like cattle. At that point I went over and put an end to it. He’s been banned from the establishment.”

“That fucking shitheel!” Priscilla screeched, seething at the way that her friend had been treated. “I told him to file a restraining order against the man, but he refused! I’m going to murder Valdo Marx!”

Geralt stared at his boss as she prowled around his room like a predator hunting for prey. “I agree, but that’s a decision he should make himself. Afterwards, I offered to become his personal trainer and dietician…” but Geralt was cut off before he could finish his explanation by an irate Priscilla. “What?! The last thing he needs right now is a fucking diet!”

She moved towards him with a fire burning in her eyes. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, both people glaring at each other in frustration. Geralt was furious that anyone would mistake his actions for anything but concerned; that she would accuse him of trying to _hurt_ Jaskier. “No, but he needs to eat and stop over exerting himself at the gym!” There was a long pause following Geralt’s statement. “When I found him he was on the verge of collapsing after using the elliptical for over an hour. I’m trying to help him, damn it, and you said it yourself that he was eating a real lunch today!”

At that moment, all of the anger and tension left her body as she heavily sat at one of the empty desks with the grace of a ragdoll. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… he’s been through a lot and when you said that I panicked.” Picking at her cuticles, she said, “Anyways, I came here to say thank you, not scream at you.”

Geralt reeled back in surprise. “Thank me? What for?”

She laughed lightly, taking in the look of surprise on his face. “You got through to him and he’s eating more. I was so scared that I wouldn’t be able to help him after Valdo, so I’m grateful that you were able to.”

Staring at her face, Geralt saw the depth of love in her eyes when she talked about Jaskier. “You really love him don’t you? He’s lucky to have you.”

For a moment, her brow furrowed together until it slackened in understanding. She began to giggle with her mirth-filled eyes directed towards him. “Yes, I love him… like a brother. It’s nothing more than that. Sorry, if that was a point of confusion for you.”

Geralt’s jaw dropped at the confirmation that there was nothing between the two of them. “Oh! Sorry to assume…” She waved him off with a smile. “Don’t worry about it,” she replied. “I’m just glad that we have that straightened out. I feel like it might be valuable information to you.” Tearing his gaze away from her, he tried to hide the blush rising on his cheeks. 

Priscilla stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles in her jumpsuit. “Just be careful with him, Geralt. He puts up a good front, but he has a huge heart that can be easily shattered.” With those wise words, she walked out of the room.

“Fuck,” said Geralt as the door slammed shut. That had been...a lot. He was also fairly certain that he had received the shovel talk from his employer about a man that he wasn’t even dating. Slumping back into his chair, he massaged his temples while trying to decipher the conversation that had just taken place. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the chance to start dissecting his confusion, because at that moment the bell rang. Groaning, Geralt peeled himself out of his rolling chair and prepared himself to teach his gym class. Maybe he would get answers during their afternoon workout.

* * *

* * *

* * *

The rest of Jaskier’s afternoon passed by at a snail’s pace, who wished more than anything that the school day would end so he could go to the gym with Geralt. If a person were to ask a past version of himself if he would ever _want_ to go to the gym, he would have laughed hysterically at the question before telling them to fuck off. He hated going to the gym but spending time with Geralt was...pleasant; even in the stressful environment of the gym, Geralt was able to make him feel more centered, more certain...prouder.

As the final bell rang, he scooped up his belongings and said goodbye to his students, while a combination of childlike giddiness and anxiety began to fill his whole being. When the last of his students walked out of the room, Jaskier shut off the lights and locked the door behind him before speed walking in Geralt’s direction. 

Upon reaching Geralt’s door, Jaskier knocked three times before letting himself in. Geralt was seated at his desk, rubbing his temples in circular motions. “Are you okay?” He asked, suddenly concerned that Geralt was unwell or fighting off a migraine. 

Geralt looked up, startled at Jaskier’s presence. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Lost in thought. How was your day?”

Jaskier took the moment to take a closer look at Geralt. He seemed tired. Stressed even. There were dark shadows underneath his eyes and his eyes seemed a little less focused than usual. “If you aren’t up to going to the gym today I could go myself. You seem tired.” Even as he said the words, Jaskier knew that he would rather do anything than go to the gym without Geralt. What if Valdo came back? If Geralt wasn’t well-enough to go with him, he would just skip his workout and then dinner to make up for it.

The older man raised his head and immediately replied, “No, I’m fine. Just a bit tired. Kids really just suck more energy out of you the older you get.”

“You’re not _that_ old, Geralt!” Jaskier exclaimed, while gesturing at him. “At least you don’t look it, even with the white hair, which is honestly impressive.”

Geralt smirked at the brunette as he nervously babbled away. “Jaskier,” he said, attempting to get the other man’s attention. The younger man stopped and looked over at the mention of his name. “I was just kidding.”

“Oh,” Jaskier replied, wishing that the floor would just swallow him whole. “Well, good, because you aren’t old, because if you are old, then I am almost old and I _refuse_ that notion.” As Geralt chuckled at his antics, Jaskier smiled, glad that he had brought the other man some joy. “So, are you ready to go?”

With the remnants of a smile upon his face, Geralt replied, “You know that we can’t officially leave until 2:20.”

Jaskier checked the clock and saw that it was only 2:10. He hadn’t realized that time was moving so slowly today. With a huff, he plopped himself down on Geralt’s desk. “Fine. Anything interesting happen to you today?”

Thinking back on his meeting with Priscilla, Geralt frowned. “Not interesting, just talked with a few people. How are you feeling today?”

“How am I _feeling_?” Jaskier parroted back. “Physically or emotionally?”

Geralt snorted. “Physically, but I’ll listen to either.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “I feel fine. Why wouldn’t I?” That wasn’t strictly the truth. Just as he had predicted, his muscles were incredibly sore from the last two days of exercise, but it wasn’t anything truly debilitating. It just proved that he needed to build up his strength again, which was something that he already knew. Mentally, he was...okay. It wasn’t a bad day or a great day, but there was no reason to bother Geralt with his problems. “Ready for another day of our gym saga.”

Geralt looked at him with an unamused expression on his face. “Really? Then why were you wincing when you sat down a minute ago?”

Wearing a guilty smile, Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Geralt’s stare. “Okay, maybe I’m a little bit sore, but I can still do a workout today! It’s only because I am so out of practice, you know?” He fell to silence, looking at Geralt with a charming little smile plastered on his face. 

The older man sighed in frustration. “Please be honest with me in the future. If you are feeling a little sore, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I will cancel a workout, it only means that I will add more stretching before and after the main part.” After a short pause, Geralt continued, “ And you aren’t as out of practice as you keep saying. You’re actually in fairly good shape for a man your age.”

Hearing Geralt say that made Jaskier flinch a little bit, but he tried to keep calm. He was only trying to be supportive, even if that meant he had to stretch the truth. “Of course,” he replied in a chipper tone, desperately trying to mask his doubts. “You’re the expert here!”

Geralt knew that Jaskier was not being entirely straightforward and was not satisfied with his answer. Gently placing his hand over the brunette’s, Geralt said, “Hey, I wouldn’t lie to you about this, I promise. Is there a reason that you’d think I was lying?”

Jaskier swallowed, his throat suddenly becoming incredibly dry in the face of this difficult question. “How could I possibly be in good shape when I look like this?” Jaskier choked out, the words seemingly escaping his mouth without his permission. Immediately after, he clasped his hands over his mouth, as if the motion would lock the words in, but they had already been let loose into the world. Removing his hands, he immediately set upon doing damage control. “Fuck! I am so sorry. I’m a poet at heart and have always been a bit melodramatic so just ignore me.”

Geralt raised his hand up, causing Jaskier’s mouth to shut immediately. He couldn’t believe that he had fucked this up one day into their new arrangement. Wow, he was truly pathetic. The older man gazed at him with determination in his eyes. “I don’t know what you are talking about. You look great. Ask anyone in the building and they will say the same. Go to a bar and the patrons will tell you. I’m telling you this as your friend, not your trainer.” Gathering his belongings. Geralt stood up and started to shepherd Jaskier towards the door. 

Jaskier snorted derisively at Geralt’s sentiments. “Surely not everyone in this building finds me attractive.” He looked at Geralt expectantly, but his confusion only grew when the sole response was a raised eyebrow.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” Exclaimed Jaskier. “The kids do not have a crush on me, no way! Why would you even say that?” Jaskier was horrified at the thought of his students finding him attractive, because they were fucking fetuses.

Geralt gave him a strange look. “ _That’s_ all that you took from what I just said?” Jaskier’s wide, blue eyes shone with confusion, prompting Geralt to roll his eyes and answer his question. “Are you really that oblivious? Most of the kids in the school have a crush on you. Ciri told me the other day that I was dethroned as ‘Sexiest Teacher’ by the cool kids and she _never_ mishears gossip. It’s a talent she learned from her mother. She’s not wrong about this, trust me.” He said all of this with a teasing smile on his lips. “You can’t tell me that you haven’t noticed.”

Jaskier stood still as a statue, processing the information. The kids thought he was hotter than Geralt. First, ewww. Second, that was not possible. Geralt and he did not exist in the same league, let alone the same ranking system. There was no way to compare the two of them fairly because Geralt was built like a Greek statue and Jaskier was nerdy, tubby and average looking. 

There had to be a mistake here, because this could not be happening. This hadn’t happened at his old school. He had thought that some of the kids had crushes on him but Valdo had set him straight: “No Jules, even children have standards.” Of course he was right, but what Geralt was saying now completely negated what Valdo had said. Who was right? 

“Well, the kids obviously have bad taste if they think that I’m the hottest teacher here. There’s lots of stiff competition! Triss, Tim...you.” He trailed off awkwardly, unsure how the other man would receive his comment. 

“ _Well_ , the people have spoken and I for one do not think they made a bad choice.” Geralt caught Jaskier going slack jawed in the corner of his eye and smirked. “I’ll meet you at the gym, alright?” Before he even heard a response, Geralt took off to his car, sighing in frustration. How explicit did Jaskier need his compliments to be before actually believing him? 

Jaskier stared off in the direction that Geralt had walked, mind completely blank. Holy shit, had Geralt just flirted with him? Each day, his suspicion that Geralt was attracted to him grew, but he still wasn’t positive. _Of course he isn’t, who would be attracted to a lardass like you?_ The Voice taunted. ‘Apparently all of my students and possibly Geralt!’ He replied back with vigor.

A cruel laugh rang through his mind, penetrating every corner of his being. _Oh yes! Preteens are definitely the pinnacle of great taste. It’s not like they are going through puberty and are attracted to anything with a pulse. Adults have standards so you best start working towards your goals._

Jaskier sighed, feeling his good attitude plummeting. Only minutes ago he had been excited to see Geralt and start his routine. Couldn’t he have one good day? He headed towards his car, dreading what would come next. ‘Why can’t things be straightforward?’ Jaskier glumly thought before starting his car and turning right out of the parking lot towards the gym.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading my work! Please leave comments below and smash that kudos button. You're all fantastic and I hope that your week rocks :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoga and property damage ensue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! I hope you had a great week and that your Friday went as smoothly as possible. Thank you for continuing to read this fic and support my creative outlet. Thanks again to Processpending, my brilliant beta-reader. I hope y'all enjoy!  
> TW: There is a joke made that mentions suicide in a joking manner. You can skip this by stopping at "Wearing swim trunks in a public space, being shirtless in front of all of those people...he couldn’t do that," and continuing on "“We can give yoga a try today and I’ll ask Lambert to open up one of the private rooms for additional privacy.”

Jaskier entered the gym, carrying his bag in one hand and a boatload of tension in his shoulders. He had spent the entire ride to the gym contemplating what Geralt had said and his confusion hadn’t lessened. Every part of that conversation went against his base beliefs -- no, they had taken them, smashed them against the wall, and then clogged on the pieces until they were nothing but dust. With a sigh, Jaskier decided that he would just need to keep his eyes on the prize. There was no need to complicate things. 

Geralt was already at the gym, waiting for him at the front desk with his brother. “Hello, Lambert,” Jaskier shouted ahead.

“Hello, pretty boy,” Lambert replied with a smirk on his face. “Back for round three?”

Jaskier blushed at Lambert’s response, unused to such lovely nicknames after so long with Valdo. “Is that my new name now?” he asked in lieu of answering the other question. 

Lambert chuckled while his eyes roamed the length of his body. “If the shoe fits.”

Rolling his eyes, Geralt smacked Lambert in the back of the head, much to the displeasure of his brother. As Lambert began to complain, Geralt spoke over him. “Behave.” Giving his brother one last glare, Geralt ushered Jaskier to the changing room. “Sorry about him...again.” 

Jaskier shrugged. “It’s alright. If anything it was flattering.” At Geralt’s acknowledging but uneasy grunt, he decided to change the subject. “You two are very different. If I didn’t know better, I would have never guessed that you were related, let alone brothers.”

Geralt let out a rich chuckle. “Yes, he’s definitely… rowdier. He’s the baby of the family.” Jaskier smiled, his interest piqued by the new details provided about Geralt’s life, but before he could ask for clarification they had reached the changing room and Geralt had turned towards him with an expression of consternation. “Before we change, I should warn you that we are going to do something different today.

“Different?” Jaskier asked, confusion etched on his youthful face. “We haven’t even started a routine yet, how can we do something different?”

Geralt grunted, silently acknowledging that the younger man had a point. “How do you feel about yoga?”

Jaskier gave Geralt an unimpressed look. “It stresses me out.”

There was a sharp pause where both men stared at each other. “It stresses you out?” Geralt parroted back, uncertain if he had misheard.

“Yes.”

Geralt looked up at the ceiling, as though he were wondering how to broach this topic. Jaskier frowned, hoping that his protests were not testing Geralt’s seemingly endless supply of patience. “Okay. Is there a particular reason why? Because I had been planning on yoga for today to help with muscle rejuvenation.” They both fell silent, one waiting for a response and the other trying to formulate one. 

“I’m a bit of a perfectionist so it stresses me out when I can’t do the poses correctly.” Jaskier bit his lip, leaving out the tidbits of wisdom that the Voice was screaming at him:  _ It’s hard to do yoga when your gut is in the way of touching the ground. _

At that moment, the changing room door opened, both startling and prompting them to take in their surroundings. They stood directly in front of the dressing room door, inconveniently blocking traffic in and out of the room. Jaskier stepped out of the way, letting the stranger exit the doorway, before entering the changing room himself with Geralt following closely behind. 

A look of contemplation crossed Geralt’s face before finally breaking the silence between them. “Will you at least give it a try? I am a certified yoga instructor and I really think that your muscles need a rest after the past few days.”

Biting back the sigh that threatened to pass through his lips, Jaskier turned to look at Geralt. “Do I have other options for...what was it, muscular rejuvenation?”

“We can always try swimming or a short hike in the woods, but I doubt that you have swim trunks with you and we are already at the gym,” Geralt replied, trying to think of other options, but coming up short. 

Jaskier froze. The thought of going swimming paralyzed his body with fear. Wearing swim trunks in a public space, being shirtless in front of all of those people...he couldn’t do that. “No swimming. I’d rather do yoga or get hit by a car,” Jaskier replied, infusing humor into the words. 

“Don’t joke about that,” Geralt spat back, with a serious expression on his face. 

“Sorry, it was a joke.”

Geralt made eye contact with him, giving him an evaluative look. After a lengthy pause, Geralt replied, “No, it wasn’t.” Before Jaskier could protest, the older man said, “We can give yoga a try today and I’ll ask Lambert to open up one of the private rooms for additional privacy.”

Jaskier clenched his fists, angry with himself for upsetting Geralt unnecessarily. The man probably thought that he was a basket case. He wasn’t going to throw himself in front of a car, but how could he explain that to Geralt without unearthing his deepest fears and secrets? “Right, sounds good. I’ll get changed and meet you out front.” Without awaiting an answer, Jaskier stormed off to his corner, frustration emanating off him in waves.

Quickly shucking off his clothes and wincing at the stiffness in his legs, Jaskier began to mentally prepare himself for his next hour of torture. He fucking hated yoga with a burning passion. He had attended a few classes back in college with Pris and had always ended the session more stressed and irritable than when he began it. At that moment, the unshakeable optimistic -- and horny -- portion of his brain chimed in. ‘Maybe things will be better with Geralt as your instructor. It’s like the beginning of a porno with a sexy yoga teacher.’ Blushing a deep red, Jaskier internally replied, ‘Shut up! Geralt is my  _ colleague  _ and  _ personal trainer _ , so stop it, stupid brain.’

Finally, Jaskier left the changing room and found Geralt waiting for him on the benches near the door, holding a small, silver key. “We have the room. Follow me.” Geralt rose up in a singular, fluid motion and turned in the direction of the private rooms. 

“How much do I owe you for the room?” He asked, calculating how much cash he actually had in his wallet. 

Geralt snorted, before turning his gaze back to Jaskier. “Nothing. Perks of a family discount.”

“Oh! Right, of course, stupid of me to think otherwise. Your brother owns the gym, of course you get perks, like free rooms, and classes, and....” Jaskier continued to ramble on, desperately trying to fill the silence, scared of what would happen if he were to stop speaking. 

“Jaskier!” He stopped his monologue at the exclamation of his name and gave Geralt a curious look. “Please stop talking,” said Geralt, his usually placid expression tight around the eyes, conveying his annoyance. 

“Right, sorry...again.” Jaskier fiddled his thumbs, avoiding Geralt’s gaze by staring at a small speck of dust on the floor as he fell silent once more. 

Geralt gritted his teeth, aggravated with himself for snapping at his co-worker. “No need to apologize.” During their spat, they had reached the door of the private room. Displeased with the awkwardness brewing between them, Geralt opened the door with more force than necessary and slammed it into the wall. Grimacing, Geralt entered the room to evaluate the damage and found a tiny dent in the wall where the doorknob had hit it. “Ah, fuck.”

Jaskier watched with wide eyes and then broke out into peals of laughter at the absurdity of the situation and the look of shock plastered on Geralt’s face. Geralt watched as Jaskier placed his hands on his knees to brace himself, before his booming laugh joined in the cacophony; both bass and tenor mingling and creating a type of music of their own. 

After a minute, they calmed down, smiles still plastered on. “We might as well do yoga and then tell Lambert the news,” Geralt said between chuckles.

Jaskier nodded his head, still too breathless to verbally respond. They both straightened their spines and closed the door behind them. Geralt took two exercise mats that were hanging on the wall and placed them side-by-side on the floor while Jaskier’s eyes flitted around the room and took in their surroundings. 

Walking over, Jaskier evaluated the mats’ placement with a quizzical look. “Shouldn’t your mat be in front of mine?”

Geralt shrugged at Jaskier’s question. “If I were teaching a big class, then yes, but since it’s just the two of us I thought that we didn’t have to do things so rigidly.”

Jaskier let out a shaky breath, his anxiety returning with a vengeance after the levity of the past few minutes had dissipated. “You know best,” he responded, trying to sound more upbeat than he actually felt. After a moment, he added, “But don’t expect too much. I’ve never been that good at yoga.”

Geralt visibly rolled his eyes, before glancing back at the younger man. “That’s what you’ve said about every exercise we’ve done and yet you’ve been good at all of them. I’m sure you’ll do fine. Anyways, it’s not about perfection, it’s about doing it to the best of your ability.”

Jaskier desperately wanted to retort, but knew that Geralt would just continue to reassure him then nothing would get done. So, deciding to be the bigger man in the situation, Jaskier simply asked, “How do we start?”

“Start on your hands and knees.”

Jaskier smirked, “Oh, Geralt! At least buy me dinner first.” Looking up to gauge the older man’s reaction, he found him blushing a deep red with a flustered expression on his face. 

“You’re worse than my daughter,” Geralt muttered under his breath before continuing his instructions. “Knees directly under your hips and hands directly under your shoulders.” Jaskier moved his body to be in the position that Geralt requested. “Perfect. Now arch your back up, like a cat and after three breaths curve it the opposite way.”

Jaskier followed the steps, concentrating on moving his body and ignoring how his stomach drooped towards the floor. He could do this. 

Approximately a minute later, Geralt said, “Excellent, now move into Downward Dog.”

Shifting his weight from his knees to his feet, Jaskier moved into the new position with less grace than he would have preferred. A grimace worked its way onto his face as his legs stretched in a way that they hadn’t in an  _ embarrassingly  _ long time. 

Geralt watched Jaskier, noting that his positioning was slightly off. His lower back was slightly curved, a misalignment that was common with beginning yoga students, but something that was easily correctable. Walking over to Jaskier’s mat, he said, “Do you mind if I correct your position?”

Jaskier froze, instantly thinking of all the ways that this could go wrong. Geralt could feel his stomach and jerk away in disgust. Honestly, that was the most likely outcome other than popping a boner in response to the older man’s touch. Regardless, if he did not answer the question soon Geralt would become suspicious and embark on another pointless, self-love talk. “Y-yeah,” he managed to stutter, sucking in his stomach to prepare himself. 

With Jaskier’s permission given, Geralt placed his hands on his hips to push them back. Jaskier’s body moved pliantly under his fingertips, his spine flowing into the correct position as his ass -- his spectacularly shaped ass -- stuck up in the air. Suddenly feeling very flustered, Geralt quickly let go of the warm waist, stepped away, and cleared his throat. “Right, well-done. Keep holding that position.” 

Geralt was so preoccupied with his own embarrassment that he did not see Jaskier’s face morph into a grimace.  _ What did you expect, Jules? _ The Voice asked in a sickening sweet tone.  _ Did you think that he would actually want to touch you for any longer than necessary?  _ A tear rolled down his face, but he was able to smear it with his shoulder so it would pass as sweat. He cursed his sensitivity, something that had followed him from childhood. Here he was, a grown man, crying to himself on a yoga mat. He had learned long ago that crying about his problems would not fix them, but his heart never seemed to receive that message. 

As the Voice continued to torment his thoughts, he became unaware of his posture and his back began to curve once more. Taking note of this, Geralt reached over to grab Jaskier’s hips, only to find the younger man flinching at his touch. Immediately stepping away, Geralt asked, “Are you alright?”

Jaskier stiffened, realizing that he had been caught. “Oh, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry about it.”

Geralt stared down at the brunette, assessing his statement and finding it false. “I don’t believe you. Why did you flinch when I touched you?” He paused for a moment when a horrifying thought occurred to him. “Did I...hurt you?” He asked. Several years of army and physical training had made him very strong and sometimes he forgot his own strength. He had just broken a fucking wall and that was the least of the sins that he had committed with his hands. What if he hadn’t truly reigned himself back in? If he had accidentally hurt Jaskier...he would never forgive himself for fucking up something so important. 

Jaskier scoffed at the question. Sure, Geralt was incredibly strong and built like a wall, but he had never been touched and treated so gently by another human being. The thought of Geralt physically hurting him was laughable, but his heart was another matter. “No, of course not. It’s really stupid…” Taking a deep breath, Jaskier decided to tell the truth. “I just don’t like people touching my middle when I look like this.”

It took a moment for the words to make sense in Geralt’s head. “Oh. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” After a moment’s consideration, he added, “I will also repeat that you look fine. You have nothing to worry about, okay?” Jaskier nodded his head, still uncertain, but finding some solace in Geralt’s words. “Great, now walk your hands towards your feet.”

The rest of the routine flew by and Jaskier surprisingly found himself enjoying the challenge each new pose brought. Geralt was incredibly patient, gently correcting any mistake -- “misalignment,” he could hear Geralt murmuring -- that he made. Yes, he never let his touches linger, something that both pleased and distressed Jaskier, but he ensured that he was correctly forming his poses. By the end of the circuit, Jaskier was dripping in sweat and felt both thoroughly worked and stretched out.

“You did well. Told you.” Geralt turned towards him with a smug look plastered on his face. 

“Yeah, yeah, alright, enough gloating. You still need to tell your brother that you broke his wall.” 

With those words, Geralt blanched, having forgotten about the wall during their workout. “Fuck,” he swore, glancing at the hole. 

Jaskier laughed, “Exactly. Good luck with that. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Geralt looked up to see the man running at full tilt out of the door, cackling with glee. 

As he left the room, Jaskier allowed himself to look on the bright side. Yes, Geralt was disgusted by touching him -- his quick and professional touches were evidence of that, but he was putting so much effort into helping him get better and he had not been rude about his deficiencies. No one would put that much effort into someone that they had no interest in, even if that interest was purely platonic as he suspected it was. If he could actually better himself, maybe he actually stood a chance at keeping Geralt’s friendship -- or maybe something more. With renewed motivation, Jaskier entered the changing room, planning what he would make for dinner and daydreaming about his new friend and colleague. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please leave your comments below and smash that kudos button! Love you all <3


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jask breaks and Geralt talks to him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Sorry for the late update, but it has been a hectic day trying to put together a Jaskier cosplay for my new job! This chapter may be especially TRIGGERING to people who have an eating disorder. Thank you again to my my amazing Beta, Processpending. My final announcement is that I will be updating a little less frequently now that school has started again. I will shoot for once a week! Thanks for continuing to read my work, and I hope that you enjoy the chapter!

Seven days. He had been on this diet for seven days.

Standing in front of his bathroom mirror, Jaskier examined his reflection and was disappointed to find no visible changes over the week. If anything, he swore that he looked even fatter than before. Feeling panic course through his veins, Jaskier moved his scale to the center of the room, thankful that he hadn’t eaten his breakfast yet. He took a bracing breath before stepping onto the scale and looking down. 

_ 195 _

Jaskier gasped, choking on the air as it went down. Two pounds. He had gained two fucking pounds. Oh god. As the panic overtook his body, Jaskier used the last of his energy to lower himself unsteadily to the floor. He didn’t understand how this could be happening. There wasn’t a single day that he had skipped a workout or a meal. He had done every single thing that Geralt had asked of him.  _ That was your mistake, Jules _ , the Voice hissed, it’s vitriolic words blasting to every corner of his mind.  _ You knew that eating like this would do nothing but exacerbate the problem, but you were too weak to say no. Life is hard and when you fuck up you have to suffer the consequences _ .

Tears streamed down his face as he internalized the words and realized that he had fucked up. There was no way that he could lose enough weight before Thanksgiving without going back onto his old diet, and after a week of eating regularly he wouldn’t be able to readjust to eating only salads for at least a week. That would only leave him a month. 

Upon finishing his calculations, Jaskier felt a deep anger rush through him, replacing the numbing panic with a burning fire. This was Geralt’s fault. He had promised results and instead Jaskier found himself backsliding into even worse disrepair. Geralt had  _ promised  _ that he knew what he was doing, had cajoled him into breaking his diet, and now he had no chance. Jaskier wasn’t angry, no, he was furious. 

Pushing himself off of the floor, Jaskier stalked out of the bathroom and threw on the first remotely matching pieces of clothing in his closet. After throwing on his glasses and running his fingers through his hair, Jaskier walked to his car, leaving his lunch box and smoothie on the counter. He had an asshole to talk to. 

* * *

* * *

* * *

Geralt walked through the front doors of the school with Ciri by his side. “Can I  _ please  _ go to homeroom now? I have errands I want to run before the day starts,” she complained underneath a pile of papers.

“Didn’t you want to help your elderly father carry his stuff? I could break a hip if I fall,” he quickly replied, fighting a smirk from spreading across his face.

“Daaad, I already said that I was sorry for calling you old. Please stop punishing me.”

With a chuckle, Geralt opened up his classroom door and ushered her through. “Alright, put those down on my desk and give me a goodbye kiss, then you can go.” 

Ciri rolled her eyes at her father’s shenanigans, but placed the papers on his desk. As he watched his daughter struggle with the pile of papers, he sat down behind his desk and gave her an expectant look. With a little smile, she bent down and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “Am I free to leave now, old man?”

“Wow, this is elder abuse. How could my little girl be so cruel?” He asked while placing a hand dramatically over his heart. He knew that he was acting overly ridiculous, but he would do anything to make his little girl laugh.

Ciri’s giggle rang throughout the room, making his melodramatics worth it. “You’re being ri-” but she was cut off by the sound of the door bursting open.

Both Rivia’s turned their head towards the door, Geralt doubly as fast, the banging sound instantly putting him on edge. Instead of an enemy militant, Geralt found Jaskier standing in the doorway, chest heaving up and down with a semi-crazed look in his eyes. Something was wrong. Before he even had the chance to ask if the younger man was alright, he began to shout. “Geralt, what the fu-” but he broke off mid-sentence when he noticed Ciri gaping at him. Jaskier immediately clicked his jaw shut and smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt. “Shit. You must be Ciri. Hello, nice to meet you, I’m Jaskier. I am so sorry,” he said, switching his gaze between Geralt and Ciri. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here. Please excuse my language...twice.”

Geralt was still shocked into silence. He had never heard Jaskier raise his voice, let alone curse so heavily in a school setting. Something was wrong. Shifting his gaze to Ciri, he noticed that she was coming out of her shock and a smug look was working its way onto her face. “Ah, so you’re Jaskier,” she stated, scanning her eyes over the man in an appraising fashion before nodding in satisfaction. 

Fuck, he needed to get his daughter out of there immediately. There was only so long that Ciri would keep her mouth shut about his crush on Jaskier and he did not want to be outed by a teenage girl. With that terrifying thought, Geralt fixed his daughter with his most intimidating stare. “Homeroom. Now.”

Ciri shot him a betrayed look. “But dad-” but he cut her off before she could finish her complaint. “Cirilla, I said now!” 

With one last scathing look, she rolled her eyes and stomped towards the classroom door. Before leaving, she turned to Jaskier and visibly looked him up and down again, shrugged, and shut the door on the way out. 

Turning his attention back to Jaskier, Geralt found the younger man staring at the door with confusion filled eyes. Jaskier turned in his direction, pointing at the door behind him and said, “I feel as though your daughter just peered into my soul and found me wanting.”

Geralt snorted at that apt description of events. Ciri definitely had a knack for delivering looks that would make a lesser person weep, something she had learned from Yen. “Don’t worry, she’s a teenager so don’t take it personally.”

Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, well to be fair I’m pretty certain that she wasn’t impressed by my entrance.” He fell silent, his face a bright red and avoiding eye contact. “Sorry, about that, I didn’t know she would be here.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow, noting that Jaskier had apologized for making a scene in front of Ciri, not for yelling at him. “Apology accepted. Now, why did you run into my room screaming and cursing at seven in the morning?” He punctuated his question by gesturing around his room. 

With those words, it seemed as though the brief moment of calm passed, like the eye of a hurricane, as Jaskier’s face turned a combination of panicked and furious. The younger man stalked up to Geralt’s desk with a single-minded focus, pinning him to his seat with his stare. To be honest, it was terrifying, and if Geralt hadn’t spent his early twenties in a warzone, he would be shitting himself. 

Jaskier finally reached the spot directly in front of the desk and placed his hands down with a reverberating smack. “Two. Pounds.”

Rubbing at his forehead, Geralt grabbed his coffee and took a sip. He had a bad feeling that his morning was about to become more complicated. After taking a moment to collect himself, he gestured for Jaskier to take a seat. Although the younger man looked at the seat, he continued to stand and wait for a response. “Can you be a little more specific?”

Geralt watched as Jaskier’s jaw and fist clenched simultaneously. As he momentarily lowered his eyes, Geralt noted that they were red and looked as though they were on the brink of tears. This was  _ bad _ . After a moment, Jaskier glanced back up at him. “Two pounds. I have  _ gained  _ two pounds, Geralt!” He fell silent and immediately slumped down into the chair behind him, cupping his hands in his face. 

Fuck, this was  _ really  _ bad. Geralt slightly adjusted himself in his chair, all the while trying to find the words, but coming up dry. “Okay.” He winced, immediately regretting his choice of words, which he knew Jaskier would misconstrue as callous and uncaring. That was the furthest thing from the truth. He just needed a minute to formulate a response. 

Unfortunately, he knew that he would not have the time to do so as Jaskier lifted his head and gave him an incredulous look. “Okay? That’s all you can say? Okay?!” He asked, voice steadily raising with each question. Geralt tried to respond, but he was once again not given the chance as Jaskier plowed along. “I promised to try out your new plan for a month, but after a week I’m already worse off than when I started! I fucking _told_ you this wouldn’t work, but you didn’t listen to me and now it’s too late to meet my deadline!”

With a single look, Geralt could tell that Jaskier was working himself into a panic attack. This needed to stop now. Taking advantage of the natural pause in the rant, Geralt yelled, “Jaskier!” The younger man stopped, giving Geralt a startled look as though he had forgotten that there was another person present. Geralt stood up and walked over to Jaskier’s side, kneeling on the hard tile floor and meeting cornflower blue eyes. “It’s probably water weight. Could possibly be muscle weight. All of the exercises that we’ve been doing build muscle and muscle is heavier than fat. There’s nothing to be concerned about.”

It took a few moments, but Geralt could see the moment that Jaskier actually understood what had just been said. The brunette’s body relaxed a fraction and the anger drained away to be replaced with confusion. “B-but, I looked in the mirror, I could have sworn…” but then he drifted away mid sentence, appearing to be lost in thought. 

Geralt gently placed a hand on Jaskier’s forearm, moving with slow and deliberate movements. “Jaskier, you’re fine. This is normal and there is nothing to be worried about.” He felt the other man shudder at his words and decided that he was finally going to push his luck. “Have you ever talked to somebody about your panic attacks?”

Jaskier immediately stiffened up and Geralt regretted bringing it up while he was so fragile. “No, they’re new.”

Nodding his head, Geralt replied, “When I got back stateside, I started to get panic attacks all of the time. The slightest thing would set them off: a car backfiring, flickering lights, anything that reminded me…” he trailed off, unfocused eyes gazing into the distance. After a moment, he shook his head and continued. “I thought that I could handle them myself, but I eventually realized that I didn’t need to and found a therapist. I still go and see her two times a month.” He took the chance to look deeply into cornflower blue eyes. “I don’t know exactly what happened between you and Valdo, but have you ever considered seeing a therapist?”

Jaskier’s eyes widened slightly as he took a deep breath. “The thought had occurred to me, but I just assumed that I was being over dramatic as usual.” He paused, clenching and unclenching his fist, as he contemplated his next words. “D-Do you think I should? You know, talk to someone?” Geralt nodded at the question, all the while holding his breath. Jaskier sighed, at his answer. “Maybe I should. I wouldn’t want something to happen in front of my students. I’m supposed to be the adult in the room and it would scare them to death if I started acting like a crazy person.” Looking horrified at the thought, Jaskier patted Geralt’s hand, stood up and said, “I’ll think about it.”

Geralt let out the breath he had been holding. That wasn’t a horrible disaster, so he’d count it as a win. “Good. I’m glad that I could help.” He paused for a moment, measuring the weight of his next words before letting them out into the world. “And you aren’t crazy, Jaskier. You don’t have to be crazy to see a therapist.” Jaskier just clenched his teeth and nodded in reply. Although he was not pleased with Jaskier’s reticence to accept his words, he decided to back off for the moment. It would not do good to overwhelm his colleague so soon after a panic attack. “Are we still on for lunch?”

At those words, Jaskier blanched. “Shit, I left my lunch and breakfast at home.”

Geralt frowned. “Here, take mine. I’ll just grab something from the cafeteria.” Without a single thought, he handed over his lunch box. “It also has a nutri grain bar, which isn’t ideal, but will do as a breakfast for today.”

“What? No, I can’t accept this. If anything I should grab lunch from the cafeteria. You shouldn’t have to give up your food because I’m a mess.” Peeking into the box, Jaskier’s nose scrunched up. “Are you sure this is on my diet?”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “No, I, your personal trainer, have just handed you the most unhealthy food imaginable.” A glint of laughter shone in Jaskier’s eyes, as he placed the bag on his shoulder. Geralt bit back further reassurance that even eating a slice of pizza for breakfast was better than eating nothing, knowing that his words would be met with skepticism at best and anger at worst. 

“So muscle weight,” Jaskier suddenly said. “I told you that big muscles weren’t a great look on me, Geralt. Best be careful or Lambert won’t be able to call me pretty boy anymore,” Jaskier said with a teasing smile. 

Without thinking, Geralt immediately replied, “I think you could pull off any look.” He froze as the realization of what he said sank in. Luckily, before he had to deal with the consequences, the bell rang. “Don’t you have hall duty?”

Jaskier stood still, shocked at Geralt’s words. “Ah actually, I’m supposed to be covering Regis’ homeroom.” After a moment, Jaskier’s words seemed to sink in and the younger man’s eyes widened as he jumped into action, gathering his belongings. “Ah fuck! The children! I have children! Waiting for me! Outside a room! I -- I need to . . .” and Jaskier ran out of the room. 

Geralt sat back down and groaned aloud, cursing his inability to act like an actual human being in front of Jaskier. As he went over the interaction, his only consolation was that he had been pretty damn smooth. Dropping his head against the desk, he began to knock his forehead lightly against the hard surface, praying for a quick death before he had to face Jaskier again. Instead of the silence that he so craved, his crisis was interrupted by a high-pitched, timid voice. “Um, Mr. Rivia? Are you alright?” Looking up, he found his homeroom staring at him, their eyes filled with various levels of confusion and concern. Fuck, he _ also _ had a homeroom. This was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOO what a doozy. Thanks for continuing to read my work and give me support. Comment and kudos below <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier go on a hike and...communicate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Here I am keeping my promise for a weekly update! I am both pleased and surprised at this outcome. Thank you for continuing to read my work. I hope that your week has been going well and continues to be positive. Thanks again to Processpending for beta-reading this and all preceding chapters. Enjoy!

Jaskier had spent the past few days contemplating Geralt’s plea that he go to therapy and had yet to come to a decision. It had been three days since the incident and Jaskier was waiting outside of the school for Geralt, wearing his sneakers, basketball shorts and a red v-neck t-shirt. It was an unusually hot day for late-October, he idly noted while he sweat through his shirt. He lifted up the hem to dab the sweat gathering on his forehead and took the moment of silence to further contemplate the question. 

Geralt had been kind enough to not bring up the sensitive topic again, but Jaskier could see it lingering in his eyes whenever they spoke. Therapy stood between them like an unwanted participant in a conversation, creating a horrible tension and awkwardness that had not been there before. 

Maybe Geralt had a point. What had happened that morning was not normal by any definition of the word. He had seen a number, panicked, and nearly cursed out a good friend in front of his daughter. God, he had ruined Ciri’s first impression of him. He couldn’t imagine how he had appeared to the young woman with his tousled hair and crazed eyes, barging into her father’s room spitting venomous words. She must have thought him insane. 

The more that he thought on it, the more convinced he was that he should at least talk to someone, if not a therapist. What if he had broken down in front of his students? He was not a violent man, not in the slightest, but if that interaction was anything to go by he could become irrational at the slightest provocation. It would be terrifying for his students if he began to crumble in front of their eyes and he would never want to put that burden on them. As the adult in the room, they were meant to rely on him, so it was his job to uphold his part of the contract -- he needed to be reliable. If the cost of being reliable was talking to someone about Valdo, then he would just have to pay the price.

Lost in his own thoughts, Jaskier did not notice Geralt driving up beside him and rolling down his windows. “Jaskier,” he called out from the air conditioned vehicle. Startled by the noise, Jaskier glanced up at the source of noise, quickly identifying his friend. “Hop in.” At the directive, Jaskier hopped into the car and Geralt shifted into drive. 

“Good morning, Geralt. How’s your Saturday going so far?” Jaskier twiddled his thumbs, still thrown off his rhythm by the revelations that his contemplations had brought to mind. 

There was an awkward pause, before Geralt replied, “It’s barely 9 AM. Nothing has happened.”

“Oh. Right.” They both fell into a stilted silence, unsure how to carry a conversation in the tense atmosphere. Jaskier mourned the ease of past conversations, where the words seemed to flow endlessly between them both. Well, words had flowed from him as Geralt replied in a mix of monosyllables and grunts, but their conversations had never felt this stilted. He wasn’t surprised that he had ruined it. “Um, where exactly are we going again?”

Geralt cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on the road as they drove further out of the city. “Just a nice hiking trail. It’s not too long, but it has a nice view of the city near the top.” They once again fell silent.

After several minutes of stifling silence, Jaskier could not take it anymore and turned on the radio. After flicking through the channels, he stopped on a station that was playing the starting notes of one of his favorite songs. Giving Geralt a peripheral glance, he turned up the volume and started to sing along. 

_ It’s not in the way that you hold me _

_ It’s not in the way you say you care _

_ It’s not in the way you’ve been treating my friends _

_ It’s not in the way that you’ll stay till the end _

_ It’s not in the way you look or the things that you say that you do _

_ Hold the line _

_ Love isn’t always on time...woah...woah...woah _

Giving Geralt a mischievous look, Jaskier punctuated each woah by shrugging his shoulders to the beat. 

_ Hold the line _

_ Love isn’t always on time… woah… woah … woah  _

Geralt watched from the corner of his eye as the younger man put all of his energy into singing the classic song, shimmying his shoulders and smiling brightly. He was radiant. The entire situation was horribly distracting and it was beginning to impair his ability to concentrate on the road ahead of him. Taking advantage of the slight pause after the chorus, Geralt jokingly asked, “Aren’t you a bit young to know that song?”

Jaskier paused his performance to give the older man an affronted gasp. “You are never too young to know the classics, Geralt. Anyways, you’re not much older than I am, so by your logic, you shouldn’t know this song either.” 

Momentarily taking his eyes off the road, Geralt snorted upon seeing Jaskier’s smug expression, already considering himself the winner of this argument. “That depends on how old you think I am,” he replied, leaving his words to be interpreted as either a question or a statement.

With a dramatic flourish, Jaskier placed his chin on his hand and made a great show of perusing Geralt’s body. The older man felt himself beginning to blush under the scrutiny, but kept his concentration on the road ahead. “The silver hair might fool some people, but you are definitely below the age of 40.”

Raising an eyebrow, Geralt replied, “There are a lot of numbers below 40, Jaskier.”

After a moment’s consideration, the brunette nodded his head, “You’re right. However, let’s make this a little more fun and up the stakes. If I’m right, you have to sing for me. What are your conditions?”

Geralt laughed. “You’re assuming I’m willing to play this game with you.” Sparing a glance at the younger man, he found pretty pink lips formed into a perfect pout. Fuck, he couldn’t say no to that face. “Fine. If you’re wrong we play 20 questions up the mountain.”

A dangerous grin spread across Jaskier’s face. “Deal. Now, after a careful amount of consideration, I would guess that you are … 36?” 

Geralt laughed victoriously. “35, but my birthday is in two weeks, so you weren’t that far off.”

“Ah fuck!” Jaskier exclaimed. “But that’s not fair! I feel as though that should be considered a draw,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and slumping into the seat.

As Geralt pulled into the parking area, he chuckled. “Fine, I don’t sing and I don’t ask you questions. Deal?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, but nodded in assent. As they both climbed out of the car, Geralt took note of Jaskier’s shoes. “Where are your boots?” 

“Oh, I don’t own any. I thought that sneakers would be sufficient. Was I wrong?” Looking down at his shoes, he recalled that his hiking boots were lost during the move. They were probably still in that bastard’s house. He would just have to buy a new pair. 

Geralt frowned, looking at the sneakers. They were sturdy looking and would do fine with the trail he had planned for that day, but would not provide enough protection on any difficult terrain. “They’re fine for today, but next time wear boots.” With one hand, Geralt grabbed both of their backpacks out of the car and asked, “Do you have enough water? Snacks?” All while rifling through his friend’s bag. 

As he watched the scene in front of him, Jaskier rolled his eyes, silently noting that his friend acted like a mother hen more often than not. “Yes, I brought everything you told me to, mom. Now, come on! We’re burning daylight and you promised me a beautiful waterfall.” With that, Jaskier snatched his bag out of Geralt’s hands and swaggered towards the path as the other man speechlessly watched him walk away.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Geralt ran after Jaskier. “That’s the wrong path, it’s the other one,” he shouted while pointing to a break in the trees on the other side of the parking area. Without missing a step, Jaskier turned on his heel and headed in the opposite direction. Geralt watched in amusement, but did not say another word, following the brunette towards the trail. 

As they began their ascent, Jaskier found himself looking for distractions to keep his mind busy. The question of therapy continued to bounce around his head like a pinball machine and it was more than he could bear. Glancing over his shoulder, he found Geralt keeping pace on his right side and decided to fill the silence at last. “So, do you like Toto?”

The older man was startled by the introduction of noise into his serene morning hike, but grunted a “Yes,” back in reply. 

“Toto is a brilliant band! I saw them live back when I was in college. I used to work in a concert venue for extra cash and sometimes I would get off early so I could watch the main acts. They were amazing live!”

“Hmmmm,” Geralt replied, resigned that this hike would not be quite as peaceful as usual, but for some reason he was not bothered by the irregularity. He liked Jaskier’s chatter. “Toto is good, but I’ve always liked Kansas.”

“Oh ho, I should have guessed that one.  _ Carry on Wayward Son _ ?” 

A smirk graced Geralt’s lips, already anticipating the reaction that his answer would draw from the loquacious man beside him. “No.  _ Point of Know Return _ .”

Jaskier gasped and grasped his chest dramatically. “Are you proposing that  _ Carry on Wayward Son  _ is trumped by  _ Point of Know Return  _ as Kansas’ best song?”

“No, but it is my favorite song by them,” Geralt replied evenly, enjoying the predictably emotional response Jaskier had bequeathed him. “ _ Carry on Wayward Son  _ is a masterpiece, but...it hits a little too close to home.” Geralt frowned as he thought of his time in the military. The song had been popular amongst those in his troop and gave them the strength to carry on. It was a shame that most of them didn’t get the peaceful end that they’d wanted...they’d gotten peace, but not a chance to go home. 

Jaskier watched as Geralt’s face became pinched and began to grasp at ways to change the topic to less dangerous waters. “What about music that was made this century?”

The question registered slowly to Geralt and his mind began sifting through his options. There was no way that he was going to admit his appreciation of boy bands to Jaskier, especially since the younger man looked like he was in one with his youthful good looks. “When I actually get control over the music I like a little bit of everything, but I usually listen to the Fratellis or Hozier.”

“Those are vastly different sounds, Geralt,” Jaskier commented with an amused smile on his face. The incline of the mountain was increasing, so his words came out in little puffs, forcing their way out into the world.

Geralt laughed at the obvious statement. “Yeah, but those are my favorites. Sometimes Mumford and Sons or My Chemical Romance, but it depends on my mood and whether Ciri has control of the radio or not.”

“Fair enough. I also listen to everything, but I usually switch back and forth between the Top 40, folk and country music, and pop-punk, teenage angst music.” He shudders, thinking back to his punk phase in high school. Thankfully he had found and burned the photographic evidence; it had not been a good look.

“That’s an expansive list, but I shouldn’t be surprised. You are the choral director.” Jaskier nodded his head in affirmation as he panted due to the exertion of hiking up the steep incline. He took a moment to grab his water bottle, pretending that he was taking a break to take in the view. The last thing that he needed was to slow Geralt down.

Geralt was startled to note that the space to his right that had been filled by Jaskier was empty. He was instantly on alert, turning over his shoulder to search for his friend and sighing in relief to only find him a few feet behind. Jaskier was drinking his water and breathing heavily, staring at the view off the side of the mountain. His hair turned golden in the sunlight and accentuated the handsome curve of his cheekbones. He looked like a god.

Shaking himself out of his traitorous thoughts, Geralt returned to Jaskier’s side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just looking at the view. It’s really beautiful out here,” he replied to the question, hoping that Geralt would not push.

“Hmmm, yes it is.” They both stood there for a moment, taking in the view and the comfort of being close to someone.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Jaskier said suddenly, still staring off into the distance. “About therapy, talking to someone...I think you might be right, but I’m not sure if I’m ready for it yet.”

They fell silent, continuing to survey the beautiful autumn colors undulating through the peaks and valleys. Geralt finally broke the silence, keeping his gaze focused on the horizon. “What makes you say that?”

Jaskier scrunched his nose as he continued to avoid looking at Geralt. If he looked towards him now, he would lose his nerve. “It’s scary to tell a stranger things. I want to tell someone, but I don’t know if I could tell a stranger, but it’s not fair on my kids for me to not talk to someone.” He brushed his fingers through his hair and sharply exhaled in frustration. “I can’t do my job if I’m unreliable. What if something happened during class? I couldn’t bear the thought of scaring my students like that.”

Geralt finally turned around to look at Jaskier. The younger man had his hands and jaw clenched, visibly upset at the thought of distressing his students. “Jaskier, you’ve never had anything of the sort happen. You’re excellent at your job and you would never do anything to put your students in danger. Have you ever gotten violent during one of your episodes?”

Jaskier looked up indignantly. “No, of course not. I’m not one for getting into fights.”

“Exactly. You have also never panicked in the classroom. You’re in your element there. This isn’t about your students, it’s about you.” Geralt placed a hand gently on Jaskier’s shoulder, checking to see if it made the other man uncomfortable. When no visible signs of discomfort were made, Geralt said, “Even so, your students love and respect you.”

Jaskier let out a heavy sigh, slouching a bit before looking away. “But Ciri…”

“Don’t,” Geralt warned in a tone that brokered no argument. “Ciri was fine. Startled, but completely okay. You even managed to rope yourself back in when you realized a child was present. You are no danger to your students.”

Tears formed in Jaskier’s eyes as he flashed a watery smile at Geralt. “Thank you. I needed to hear that. Regardless, it would make me feel better if I had someone to confide in.” Jaskier fiddled with the bottom of his shirt, contemplating his next words. “Maybe...I could talk to you until I find the courage to see someone.”

Geralt froze at the quietly spoken words. He turned the words over in his mind and was astonished at the meaning that they carried. This wonderful, handsome, caring man was trusting him, Geralt Rivia, to listen to his deepest fears and anxieties. The only people who had ever trusted him that much were his family. To be given that honor was...overwhelming, but he would take this fragile trust and protect it with his life.

He was startled out of his shock when he heard Jaskier stutter, “O-of course you don’t need to. You have enough going on in your life and you’ve already given me so much. I-I’m sorry to bother you, it was stupid.” As he spoke those last words, Geralt watched the other man turn towards the bottom of the mountain and walk away with his shoulders slumped in defeat. Geralt cursed under his breath and ran after the shrinking figure in the distance. 

“Jaskier!” The younger man stilled for a moment and then turned around, with an expression that betrayed his embarrassment and distress at the situation. Geralt jogged over to his side, panting raggedly due a combination of adrenaline and exertion. “You didn’t let me answer. Yes, you can talk to me until you find a therapist you trust.”

An expression of unadulterated joy momentarily flashed over Jaskier’s face before it was once again covered by clouds of doubt. “Are you sure, Geralt? I’m...I’m a little fucked up,” he whispered to the ground, while he tried to make himself as small as possible. 

Geralt frowned and ducked his head down to catch Jaskier’s gaze. “So am I,” he replied simply before straightening up to his full height once more. Jaskier’s gaze followed him as he rose, surprise and fondness reflecting in the cornflower blue orbs. “You can talk to me whenever you feel the need. Do you want to finish our hike?”

Jaskier blinked at him, unsure how to respond. This beautiful man continued to surprise him. Not only was he volunteering even more of his time to deal with him, but he seemed to actually care about his well-being. He quickly sent out a prayer, thanking God for whatever good deed he had done to deserve Geralt in his life. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.” With that he fell back in step beside Geralt, a spot that he was beginning to think would become permanent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They kind of talked! That's good! The song that Jaskier is singing in the car is "Hold the Line" by Toto, if you were interested. Thanks for continuing to read my work. Kudos and comment below!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IT'S SPOOKY SEASON!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all! I hope that you've all had a great week so far! I have been dying to write this chapter since starting this endeavor and am so excited to post it now! Thanks again to my Beta, Processpending. Enjoy the chapter!

A week had passed since the mountain and it was officially Halloween. Actually, Jaskier thought wryly, it was the day before Halloween, but it was a Friday and the school had allowed the students to dress up for the day. Jaskier stood in front of his mirror, scrutinizing his appearance as he looked at his reflection from multiple angles. He didn’t look  _ too _ bad, but he was donning one of his less form fitting and school appropriate costumes. For the past few years he went to school sanctioned events dressed as either Prince Eric or Flynn Rider, both of which were easily recognizable to his students. This year he chose the latter, thinking that it would be better at disguising the softness that had gathered around his middle and match his hair, which he had allowed to grow a bit shaggy over the past few months. However, upon taking a look in the mirror, he found himself mistaken. The cut of blue vest was slimming, but it was also a little tight around his waist. 

Jaskier looked at the time and concluded that he had no time to change. He cringed at the thought of being so vulnerable at his place of employment, his weakness out on display for everyone to see. Taking one last look at his reflection, he vowed that he would not have any candy today. In the past he had made similar vows, but he always seemed to break them. He would have to stick to his resolution this year, he thought as he tried to suck in his stomach with less success than he had hoped for. With a sigh, he left the room and grabbed his lunch box, smoothie, and the candy bag for his students off of the kitchen counter. He would just have to deal with the form fitting outfit today with the comforting thought that he could go back to hiding in his sweater vests next week. Taking one last fortifying breath, he jogged out of his door towards his car.

During the drive to school, Jaskier took the time to self-reflect. His hike with Geralt had occurred nearly a week ago --six days if he wanted to be precise -- and he had yet to talk to the other man. Sure, they had spoken several times and it appeared that they had grown closer after their intense conversation, but he had yet to speak about Valdo. If he were being honest with himself, he was not sure where to begin. The years that he had spent living with Valdo had taken their toll and he knew that if he started to talk he wouldn’t stop. It was as though he were a dam that had finally sprung a leak after years of damage. All it would take was one moment of weakness and a wave of emotions would overtake him. It was exhausting trying to hold back the flood of emotions, but it would be even harder to deal with the issues he had neatly packed away into the corner of his mind if he were to set them free.

In seemingly no time, he pulled into the parking lot and jumped out of his car. Taking one last look at his reflection in the side view mirror, he slumped in defeat and set off to his classroom. He looked fine, he kept on repeating to himself. No one was going to be outwardly rude to him at school. He was fine. 

After signing in at the Main Office and exchanging a few words with Betty, Jaskier continued the trek towards his room, but suddenly stopped when he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the corner of his eye. Turning around, Jaskier found himself face to face with Geralt and found himself fighting back a blush. 

The older man was donning black pants, a puffy, black, pirate shirt, and a black mask that covered the top half of his head. After a moment’s consideration, Jaskier recognized the costume as the Westley from  _ The Princess Bride _ . ‘Of course he would dress up as a character from my favorite movie,’ Jaskier lamented while subtly checking out the hints of the other man’s muscular physique shown through the thin material of the shirt. He looked  _ good _ .

At that moment, Geralt turned around and made eye-contact with him. ‘Fuck,’ he thought while gazing upon the masked figure. ‘Jesus, his arms are the size of my thighs! I bet he could use them to...wait! Bad Jaskier! School appropriate thoughts!’ He was disgusted with himself. Geralt was his friend and friends did not look at one another like a piece of meat. His levels of distress rose even higher upon registering the person that had been conversing with Geralt before they had their mini stare-off; it was Ciri, dressed as a perfect clone of Buffy Summers, wooden stake and all. Fuck, he was lusting after this girl’s parent while she was present. Given the look that she was giving him, he was not being overly subtle about it either. Swallowing his pride, he smoothed over his waistcoat and walked over to the pair. He had to say hello and hope that his obvious staring would not ruin the atmosphere

* * *

* * *

* * *

Moments before, Geralt had sworn that time itself had frozen when he had laid eyes on Jaskier. He could freely admit to himself that he had spent the past week wondering what the other man would dress up as for Halloween. The younger man had told him weeks ago that his favorite holidays were Halloween and Purim. Although Geralt did not know what Purim was, he knew Halloween and was certain that Jaskier’s costume would be fantastic. He had hoped that the other man would bring up his costume, but anytime the conversation shifted to the upcoming festivities, Jaskier had given him a cheeky smile and whispered, “It’s a secret, Geralt!” All of his guesses wouldn’t have brought him to this conclusion. 

Standing before him was Jaskier, dressed as Flynn Rider from  _ Tangled _ . Geralt was intimately aware of the movie, with Ciri watching it multiple times a week as a child. The outfit truly emphasized Jaskier’s lovely, blue eyes and strong arms. ‘Fuck,’ he thought as he made eye-contact with the younger man. ‘He  _ literally _ looks like a Disney prince, like someone straight out of a fairytale.’ 

He was soon pulled out of his thoughts by Ciri, who was pulling on his sleeve and leveling him with a knowing look. Fuck. His daughter was far too perceptive for her own good -- or perhaps only for his own good. He was so preoccupied with winning the staring contest with his daughter that he barely noticed Jaskier approaching him until he was right next to him. 

“Geralt,” the younger man said, greeting him with a smile. “Nice costume! The Dread Pirate Roberts. Quite dashing.” Jaskier blushed a deep red, trailing off and looking uncertain.

Ciri snorted, garnering the attention of both men. “Mr. Pankratz,” she said in greeting, still staring at her father with gleaming eyes. “Nice to see you again.”

Jaskier regained his smile and easily replied, “Please, call me Jaskier. Mr. Pankratz sounds so...stuffy. Only my students call me that and that’s only because the school district has rules about that kind of stuff.” Silence fell between the three until Jaskier quickly decided to break the silence. “Buffy Summers, right?”

Ciri immediately perked up. “Yeah! She’s super cool! I want to be a monster hunter like her and take down bad guys!”

Geralt chuckled at her childlike excitement. She was quite mature for her age, but he treasured the moments when she acted her age. Ciri turned to look at him once more and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m heading to homeroom. Happy Halloween!” With that, she walked away.

The two men fell silent for a moment, just taking each other in. Geralt finally broke the silence, clearing his throat and the tension between them in one action. “I’m glad you got my costume. Last year, the kids thought that I was Matt Murdock from  _ Daredevil _ .

Geralt watched, amused as Jaskier gasped dramatically, appearing to be personally offended by the statement. “Matt Murdock! Those little heathens! Honestly, Geralt, education has truly gone to shit if our students have never watched  _ The Princess Bride  _ before. What are these parents letting their kids watch?” Jaskier continued on his little rant until he ran out of steam, chest heaving from the exertion of his passionate speech. 

After a slight pause, Jaskier caught his breath and raised an eyebrow wryly. “Well, you brute, aren’t you going to complement my costume?” He asked sarcastically. Geralt contemplated the question and saw the nervousness lingering in the depths of his friend’s eyes. To anyone else, Jaskier would appear sassy and confident, but Geralt could tell that he was uncomfortable with the situation. That just wouldn’t do. 

“You look wonderful,” Geralt honestly replied, taking note of the crimson blush working its way up Jaskier’s face. Fuck. Perhaps his compliment had made his feelings too transparent. He was obviously making the other man uncomfortable, a thought that immediately made him regret his words. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he said, “Maybe you should have dressed up as Princess Buttercup. It would have matched your name.”

Jaskier’s eyebrows reached his hairline and he let out a bellowing laugh that echoed through the hallways. Geralt was surprised when the first words out of Jaskier’s mouth were, “You know Polish?”

“Um, yes, only a little. One of the men in my squad was born in Poland. He taught us all the basics.”

Jaskier smiles at the answer. “Well, I’m impressed. Not many people know Polish. My grandma taught me. She was born there.”

With a mischievous smile plastered on his face, Jaskier walked over to Geralt and said, “Want you to know a little secret?” Geralt nodded and the younger man leaned closer to his ear. “I’ve already done that costume and the only time I repeat costumes is for work.” He shrugged his shoulders, straightening up. 

Geralt was stunned at this revelation and tried to keep his mind from wandering to thoughts that were not appropriate for school. “Hmmm.”

“But,” Jaskier continued, “I might break my own rule for the sake of teaching the kids pop culture. Maybe we could coordinate next year!” Jaskier exclaimed, suddenly excited at the prospect of matching costumes. “You can be Westley and I can be Buttercup! Or I can be Flynn Rider again and you could be Rapunzel.”

Geralt laughed at the final suggestion. “I doubt that I look as good in a dress, Jask, but ask me next September,” he said, while he simultaneously attempted to stop imagining Jaskier’s legs in a skirt. 

“Ah, but you have the hair. Honestly, your hair would make most women jealous. You could definitely be Rapunzel,” Jaskier insisted, nudging his shoulder for extra effect. “Anyways, I have to go set up my classroom for the day. See you at lunch.” With that Jaskier sauntered off in the direction of his classroom.

Geralt stayed frozen in place, watching Jaskier’s hips move side-to-side as he walked away before tearing his gaze away. ‘Stop being a lecherous, old man, Geralt,’ he lectured himself. Jaskier didn’t deserve to be gawked at like a piece of meat. He deserved someone closer to his age with less baggage. Sighing to himself, he walked back towards his classroom, preparing for a day of his kids riding a sugar high and not paying any attention. 

* * *

* * *

* * *

Jaskier’s day had been going swimmingly by the time that the bell rang signaling his free period. Grabbing his lunch box, he headed towards the door, pausing and looking back towards the large bowl of candy that he left in the center of the room. He knew that there was no way he could responsibly allow his kids to eat all of that candy, but that would leave some for him. His best option was to bring it to lunch and offer it to Geralt and whoever else happened to be in the teacher’s lounge, but he was not sure if he could avoid the temptation. Even during his classes, he barely had the fortitude to hold back. After a moment’s hesitation, he went back and grabbed the bowl, figuring that he would rather get rid of it now than have it staring at him all day. 

As he walked towards the lounge, Jaskier took stock of what costumes were popular that year. Elsa, as per usual, was a popular choice for the ladies, but there were also several girls dressed up as Rey from the new Star Wars trilogy. The boys were a mixture of monsters from horror movies, pirates, and superheroes. All in all, he saw a sea of conventional costumes that showed him that some things truly never changed. Upon reaching the door to the lounge he immediately spotted Geralt in their normal corner, but was distressed to see no one else. It looked as though he would just be offering his stash to Geralt. 

Taking a seat in his usual spot, he unpacked his lunch of pumpkin soup and pita bread. Before taking his container to the microwave, he unceremoniously dumped the bag of candy in front of Geralt and said, “Please have some. I can’t take all of this home.” With that he turned on his heel and set to heating up his food. 

Geralt blinked at the small mountain of candy that sat in the middle of the table and took a Snickers bar, waiting for Jaskier to finish heating up his lunch. Once the other man had returned to the table, Geralt said, “Looks like you’re well prepared for trick-or-treaters tomorrow.”

Jaskier blushed, looking at the small mountain of candy sitting between them. “Yeah, I might have gone a  _ little _ overboard, but it’s Halloween! The kids deserve candy every once in a while.”

Geralt unwrapped his newly acquired Snickers and took a bite. “Agreed. When Ciri was younger I used to take her out Trick-or-Treating and she would get so excited over the candy, but would only want the Starbursts. I ended up eating most of the candy,” he said, rolling his eyes at his daughter’s antics. 

Jaskier laughed. “That sounds about right. Wouldn’t have guessed that you have a sweet tooth,” he smoothly replied, taking the chance to glance at Geralt’s muscular build. 

Geralt grunted in agreement and waved around the half-finished Snickers bar in his hand. “Horrible sweet tooth. If I could, I would eat sweets all day, but unfortunately that’s not healthy.”

Jaskier nodded. “I also love sweets. One of the reasons that Halloween is one of my favorite holidays.” He took a spoonful of soup, considering his next words. He had promised Geralt that he would start talking. Maybe this would be a good place to start. Taking one last glance around the room to confirm that no one had slipped in, he spoke. “I used to go all out on Halloween. I’d buy lots of candy and make themed drinks and recipes, none of them remotely healthy. I’d make themed jalapeño poppers and caramel popcorn, anything remotely Halloween related. All of my friends would come over and I’d eat so much candy. It was my favorite time of year.” He paused, unsure of what to say next.

Geralt hummed and nodded. “That sounds like a lot of fun.”

Jaskier sadly smiled, keeping his eyes directed on his soup. “Yeah, it really was.”

They fell silent, both waiting for the other to say something. Geralt eventually cleared his throat and asked, “What changed?” Even though he already knew the answer. 

Jaskier deflated even further. “I threw a Halloween party a year or so after Valdo and I had gotten together. It was a great time and everyone was enjoying themselves. I was dressed as Dr. Frank-N-Furter from Rocky Horror. When I was in college, I used to act in the Rocky Horror Picture Show, so I had the costume lying around.” He took another pause and took a bite of his pita bread. 

Geralt was wide-eyed, suddenly imagining Jaskier dressed in a corset and fishnets. “That’s a good costume,” he replied, struck dumb and unable to find other words. 

Jaskier let out a derisive laugh. “Yeah, I thought so too. Anyways, the party ended and I had just finished cleaning up, so I headed to bed. Valdo was sitting there and he was drunk. To be fair, I was also completely plastered, so I laid down next to him. He put his arms around me and he said --” and he clenched his jaw together, desperately trying to keep the tears back. 

“You don’t have to tell me, Jask. It’s obviously hard on--” Geralt replied, but was cut off immediately. “No, I can say it. I just needed a moment,” Jaskier replied through uneven breaths. 

He took another glance around the room to ensure that they were alone, before continuing the story. “Um, he said, ‘ You might want to lay off the candy Jules, you’re getting fat.’” Jaskier’s voice broke on the last word and he fell silent for a moment, trying to compose himself. Geralt watched, anger rising in him towards a man that he had barely met, but hated more than any other. If he ever had the chance, he’d beat the shit out of that shit stain of a human.

Jaskier swallowed down the thickness gathering in his throat and attempted to smile, but it came out crooked and filled with sadness. “He wasn’t exactly  _ wrong _ , but--” and Geralt immediately cut him off with a stern “No.”

“No?” Jaskier asked, perplexed at what Geralt was saying no to. 

“No, he was wrong.” Geralt saw Jaskier open his mouth to reply, but plowed on to get his point across. “Even if you had put on some weight, that is no way to speak to your partner. He had no right to make you feel that badly about yourself, so no, he was  _ absolutely  _ wrong.”

Jaskier was speechless, looking at the passion blazing in Geralt’s golden eyes. He pulled himself back together and stared at his soup as he spoke. “Maybe, you’re right, but after that we didn’t celebrate Halloween anymore. He said that I wasn’t strong enough to avoid eating all of the candy, so it was just better if we didn’t celebrate...I really missed it.” He fell silent and took another bite of his soup, trying to ignore the burning in his eyes. 

Geralt was furious, but tamped down the ire rising within, reminding himself that Jaskier needed him. It had taken a lot for the other man to open up to him and he would not ruin Jaskier’s process due to his own selfish anger. After taking a calming breath he said, “Thank you for telling me that. I can’t imagine what that was like, but now you can celebrate Halloween anyway you want and that includes making Jalapeño poppers and eating candy.”

Jaskier looked up, stunned at the words that had left Geralt’s mouth. “But they’re not on my diet,” he replied, uncertain as to what else he could say. 

Geralt sighed, looking chagrined. “Jaskier, it’s Halloween. Diets don’t count on holidays. You deserve to enjoy yourself.”

A glance at Geralt’s face convinced Jaskier that he was telling the truth, but he was unsure. “But won’t it set me back? I can’t afford to--”

“No,” Geralt smoothly cut in. “One day of enjoying yourself won’t hurt you. In fact, I think it might make you feel better.”

Jaskier carefully considered Geralt’s statement. The older man had thus far not led him astray, but it was hard to conceptualize that he was  _ allowed _ to eat candy and celebrate his favorite holiday. Slowly, Jaskier reached across the table and grabbed a Twix bar, all the while keeping an eye on Geralt’s reactions. Geralt flashed him a reassuring smile, so he unwrapped the candy and stared at it. After a moment’s hesitation, he took the smallest bite and smiled as the sweet taste of chocolate spread across his tongue. 

Relishing in the caramel sticking to his teeth, he could barely hear the Voice taunting him. All he could focus on was the blissful happiness flowing through him and Geralt’s sweet eyes. “Mmmm that was good,” he groaned, through his upturned lips.

“Good,” replied Geralt, as the two men turned back to their lunches. As their lunch came to an end, Jaskier finally believed that this Halloween might be the best one he had celebrated in years. His confidence only strengthened as he watched Geralt walk away with a Snickers held firmly in his hand and a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter. If you are interested in the soup recipe that Jaskier was eating, [here](https://www.liveeatlearn.com/easy-pumpkin-soup/) it is! See y'all next week!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier decides to reinstate some old traditions with a friend!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I hope that your week is going well and that y'all are staying safe. Thanks again to my amazing beta, Processpending, who can decipher what past drunk me meant while writing after the debate! Thank you also to my amazing readers who continue to support me. I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Jaskier sat behind his desk, waiting until the clock hit 2:20 as he stared at the text message he had composed. Even though he had re-read the message multiple times, he was still too afraid to send it. “You’re being ridiculous. She's your best friend in the world and she won’t say anything rude.” Despite his reassurances, Jaskier re-read the text once more.

_ To Prissy 💓💓😍🥰: Wanna have our traditional Halloween tonight? _

It was a simple question that would have a simple answer, but his anxiety kept voicing its doubts. What if Pris had other plans? Unlike him, she hadn’t become a hermit since college and had a large array of friends. He would never begrudge her that, but it still made him pause when trying to make plans. What if she said no? 

After his conversation at lunch with Geralt, Jaskier was more than excited to reinstate some Halloween traditions, but it was far too late to try and throw a rager, not to mention that he had lost contact with many of his friends over the years and he was not sure how he would react to being surrounded by so many people. Instead, he had thought that inviting Pris over to make his favorite Halloween treats and watch Halloween movies would be a fun way to spend the holiday weekend, but he had missed a crucial step in forming his plans: he hadn’t  _ actually  _ invited Pris over yet. 

He kept on staring at the text composed on his phone, silently debating if he should send it or not. If he sent it and she had other plans, he would be devastated. If he never sent it, then he could just go home, make his favorite treats to eat by himself, and deal with the damage later. Neither option sounded appealing.

There was also the slim chance that Pris had no plans for tonight and would want to hang out. Jaskier scoffed at his own naivete. Of course Pris had plans. It was Halloweekend, why wouldn’t she have plans? Breathing deeply through his nose, Jaskier tried to center himself and prevent the encroaching sense of panic from settling into his bones. After he succeeded in his task, he quickly pressed the send button before he could regret his actions. 

Taking a final look around his classroom, he gathered up his things and left the building, hoping beyond hope that he would not have to spend this Halloween alone. As he drove the familiar route home, it occurred to him that he could have asked Geralt to join his festivities for the night, but then stopped his ridiculous line of thought. Geralt had canceled their workout session for the next two evenings, stating that Halloweekend was not the time for the gym. The poor man had two days off from seeing him out of school, granting him extra time to spend with his daughter. At that moment, Jaskier promised himself that he would not be selfish enough to drag Geralt away from his parental duties, no matter the answer that he received.

Whilst driving, Jaskier heard a faint  _ ding  _ from his phone, notifying that he had received a text. His shoulders tensed, glancing towards his phone that was laying on the passenger's seat. From the quick look he could tell that the text came from Pris, the gratuitous use of emojis making her contact recognizable at a glance, but he could not read the answer to his question. Jaskier reasoned with himself that he would wait until he was in his apartment to read the response. That way he would be in a safe place if the answer was not what he had hoped it to be. 

As he pulled into his apartment parking lot, he took a moment to simply exist in his car, trying not to think about the crises and problems that awaited him inside his apartment. Technically, if he stayed inside of his car, he would never have to face the music, but he knew that was not a practical approach. Taking one last moment of peace, he grabbed his phone and bags, exited his car, and ran into his apartment. 

After setting his bags on the table, Jaskier unlocked his phone and checked the message. He then re-read the message, his emotions soaring as the words finally hit home.

_ From Prissy 💓💓😍🥰: I’ll be there at 6. If you don’t have Hocus Pocus and Scream queued upon arrival, I will riot!  _

Jaskier nearly cried upon reading the message and quickly responded with a simple thumbs up. Sitting heavily on one of the kitchen stools surrounding his island, he started crying tears of joy. He wasn’t going to be alone, he was going to celebrate his favorite holiday, make his favorite foods, and watch his favorite movies and there was nothing that Valdo could do to stop him. 

After the wave of emotion had receded, allowing his overwhelmed mind to think logically, he got up and checked his fridge for the ingredients that he would need to make his traditional foods. He had most of the ingredients, but he was missing any type of alcohol. Following a moment’s deliberation, he sent a list of items to Pris, requesting that she bring them as an entrance fee to their exclusive party. 

The next few hours became a blur of preparing foods and planning his costume. Eventually, he decided to keep on his Flynn Rider costume that he had donned during the day, if only because he had not planned on another costume and he was not sure if his older ones would fit at the moment. He comforted himself with the knowledge that he would fit into his old Dr. Frank-n-Furter costume by next Halloween. 

The next coherent thought he had was that the doorbell was ringing. That was odd. He wasn’t expecting Pris until six-o’clock. Glancing at the clock on his microwave, he was surprised and panicked to find that it read  _ 5:59 _ , in small, neon letters. Fuck! He had barely begun to make their themed snacks! With a final glimpse at his reflection on the back of a spoon, he smoothed out his clothes and opened the door. 

Pris stood there, dressed as Sarah Sanderson from  _ Hocus Pocus _ . Jaskier gasped in delight, speechless at the wonderful costume that his friend wore. 

“I know! Isn’t it fantastic? I found it for cheap at a thrift store and it fit perfectly! The kids loved it!” Pris took that moment to look over Jaskier’s costume and he found himself trying to suck in his stomach a little bit under the scrutiny. “Oh Jask, you look fantastic! Flynn Rider is a perfect costume for you. The only better Disney character would be Prince Eric.”

He laughed and replied, “Actually, that is my other go to, school-appropriate costume. I try to switch off every year, although, I guess no one would have known this year.”

She launched herself through the doorway and hugged him. “Oh Jask, I am so excited to spend Halloweekend with you. It’s been far too long.” She detached herself from his neck and reached into the bag that he had just noticed was slung upon her shoulder. “I also brought wine, the ingredients for your favorite Halloween cocktails, and the other items that you asked for.”

Jaskier grinned, his friend’s enthusiasm infectious and grabbed the bag from her shoulder. “Perfect, I’m so excited! I haven’t finished making everything yet…”

Pris waved her hand, as though she was dissipating his excuses from the space between them. “Don’t worry, I can help you make them. Now, get out of my way and let me in.”

Jaskier laughed at his friend's antics and let her in. “I finished the jalapeño poppers, but I still need to make the Bacon Sriracha Deviled Eggs and put the finishing touches on the Salted Caramel Popcorn. Can you start frying up the bacon you brought and making the spiked pudding?”

Throwing up a mock salute, Pris set to work, methodically unloading the ingredients from the bag. As she began frying the bacon, she looked over her shoulder, giving Jaskier a searching glance. “Not that I’m unhappy about seeing you recommence our Halloween traditions, but I’m surprised. You haven’t had your Halloween celebration for years.” 

Jaskier hummed distractedly and nodded while he cut the boiled eggs in half. “Yeah, Valdo didn’t like it when I celebrated Halloween. He said that...well, it doesn’t matter what he said, because now I can celebrate however the fuck I want.” He was shocked to feel a tear stream down his face at the end of his mini-rant. He wiped it away as surreptitiously as he could before turning to face Pris. “And I want to celebrate with you, like we used to.”

Pris shot him a watery smile. “Yeah I want that too. I’ve missed your jalapeño poppers, no one makes them as good.” At that point, she hugged Jaskier from behind and placed her head on his shoulder. “And we are going to eat candy and horrible food until we physically can’t anymore and watch fun movies.”

He froze at the mention of eating so much, but relaxed, remembering Geralt’s words. He was allowed to enjoy himself. One night of eating his favorite treats for a holiday wouldn’t hurt all of his progress. However, looking down, he wryly noted that there hadn’t been nearly enough progress, observing how the costume did very little to mask his soft middle. “Yeah, that sounds fun, Pris…”

“Then why do you sound so nervous?” she asked, all while stealing a jalapeño popper from the plate in front of him. 

He scoffed, hoping that he could put up a good enough front to lie to Pris. “Why would I be nervous? I am just making deviled eggs. There’s nothing to be worried about.” Looking up from his stomach, he glanced back at Pris’ worry-lined face. Damn, it appeared that he wasn’t as convincing as he’d hoped. “It’s complicated, Pris.”

After a moment’s silence, she whispered, “Does it have to do with why Valdo wouldn’t let you celebrate Halloween?”

Fully turning in her arms, Jaskier faced Pris head-on. “Yes, but it’s okay. Geralt said that I should try to enjoy the night.”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise and moved back towards the stove to remove the crisp bacon from the stove. “Geralt said…” she parroted back. “Well, Geralt is right. You deserve to enjoy yourself. What’s holding you back?”

He sighed, focusing on preparing the filling for the eggs. “I don’t really want to talk about it. Is that okay?” Turning around, he caught a glimpse of the sadness in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to go into it tonight.”

“No, of course. I understand. Why don’t I start making the drinks?” With a nod of his head, Pris took out the ingredients to make the spiked chocolate pudding and Zombies. After a prolonged silence, she spoke up again and said, “Just know that I’m here to talk if you ever need it.”

“I know,” he softly replied, before returning to his task of placing the garnishes on the deviled eggs. 

Within the hour, the two had a veritable spread of food in front of them, testing the strength of the dinky little coffee table Jaskier had found on the side of the road. After grabbing whatever was left of his candy from school, the two sat down in front of the television and turned on  _ Scream _ , one of their traditional Halloween movies. 

As the beginning scene with Drew Barrymore flashed on the screen, Pris passed him one of the Zombies with a look of glee on her face. “Cheers, bitch!” Jaskier took the proffered glass and clinked it against Pris’ and took a small sip. He hadn’t drunk alcohol in such a long time because it had gone against his diet. Valdo had told him that the last thing he needed was empty calories. Anyway, he was too clingy, and yet simultaneously flirtatious, whenever he drank; at least, that was what Valdo said. Tucking those memories into the back of his mind, he took another tiny sip, savoring the fruity flavor that spread across his tongue. 

The night continued in a similar fashion, with both of them guzzling drinks and watching movies into the wee hours of the morning. Around 3 AM, Jaskier took a moment to look at the carnage surrounding him through an alcohol induced haze. Fuck. There was nothing left on the table and there were glasses that had been filled with chocolate spiked pudding and zombies littering the ground around them. He groaned into his hands. This had to have been far more decadent than Geralt had intended.

Pris drunkenly moved over into his space. “You okay? Are you going to vomit, because I might.”

Jaskier cringed at the joke. “No, no I won’t. I’m fine. I think I might have overdone it just a tad.”

She laughed and clung onto his neck. “I can say the same, darling. Don’t worry about it, we can sleep it off and then start anew tomorrow. Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party with me tomorrow...or I guess it’s today, now?” She pondered, looking confused at the logistics of time. 

Jaskier groaned again. Did he want to go to a party? Of course, but what costume did he have? He hated wearing his school costumes out for Halloween, but he had nothing else that would fit at the moment.  _ You also just ate enough to feed a small family. The last thing you need is another chance to do the same _ , the Voice hissed at him. 

Looking up, he found Pris looking at him with doe eyes. “It will be fun, I promise.”

Rolling his eyes, he said, “Fine, but I have no costume to wear.”

“Wear what you have on, you look hot. Anyways, it’s time that you met someone new.” She teasingly played with his chest hair, waiting on his answer. 

He laughed. “Yeah, no, I am not wearing this around adults. I’ll figure something out.”

“So you’re coming?” She slurred further slumping into his side. 

“Fine, yes, yes, I’ll come with you. Now, I think it’s time for us to get some sleep.” He looked down at Pris, to find her already asleep against his arm. Snorting in amusement, Jaskier grabbed the remote and a nearby blanket for the two of them, shortly before passing out himself. He would worry about his costume later. For now, he just needed to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! If you are curious about the recipes, here is a list:  
> [Zombie](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/217231/zombie-cocktail/)  
> [Drunk in the Graveyard](https://tipsychickens.com/drunk-in-the-graveyard-boozy-halloween-pudding-cups/)  
> [Sriracha Deviled Eggs](https://www.gogogogourmet.com/bacon-sriracha-deviled-eggs/Sriracha%20Deviled%20Eggs)  
> [Salted Caramel Popcorn](https://www.southernliving.com/recipes/homemade-caramel-popcorn)  
> [Jalapeño Poppers](https://www.thehopelesshousewife.com/?hhw_recipes=halloweeno-jalapeno-popper-mummies)  
> Leave your comments and kudos down below. Have a great week y'all!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier wakes up and makes plans...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Welp, it has been a whole month and I am so sorry for my unplanned hiatus. Things have calmed down here so I will be posting more regularly again. Thanks again to my beta Processpending and for anyone who held out hope that I hadn't abandoned this fic. I hope that you all had an awesome Halloween. Enjoy!

Jaskier awoke the next morning to the smell of frying bacon and the sound of a lovely alto humming in the kitchen. He opened his eyes a crack and hissed at the bright light that exacerbated his hangover, immediately smothering his face into his favorite blue pillow. Fuck, that had hurt. Apparently, his tolerance was not as strong as it had been back in college. He longed for the days when he woke up with no consequences after a night of partying. With a dramatic groan, he once again attempted to open his eyes and blinked blearily as he took in his surroundings. 

Without a doubt, a thorough cleaning of his apartment was in order. The coffee table was covered in candy wrappers and various dishes that had held his Halloween delicacies the night before. He vaguely remembered spilling a Zombie on to the carpet at some point and unsurprisingly found a horrendous stain close to where his right knee was hanging off his makeshift bed. Peeling his body off the couch, Jaskier gritted his teeth, bracing himself against the onslaught of nausea, pain, and regret; he wasn’t disappointed.

“Good, you’re up,” someone said, shoving a glass of water and aspirin into his hands. Tilting his head up, Jaskier found Pris standing above him, looking distinctly unimpressed. “How do you feel?”

He responded with a groan as he swallowed the pill, followed swiftly with cool, refreshing water. Placing the cool glass against his head, he glanced up at his best friend and shot her a weak smile. “Like death warmed over. How are you walking?” Jaskier asked, squinting against the light shining behind her head. 

“Because I can actually hold my liquor, lightweight.” Before he had the chance to protest, she pushed his glasses into his hands and pulled him off the couch. “Now get up, I made breakfast and then we need to figure out your costume for tonight.”

Jaskier furrowed his brow in confusion. “Costume? Pris, what are you talking about?” He asked, trailing after her into the kitchen. He stopped abruptly, taking in the kitchen. The island was laden with his favorite breakfast foods: pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs. It smelled heavenly, even with the twisting nausea sitting deep in his stomach. Ironically, he couldn’t tell if the nausea was from the hangover or the guilt of eating so much the night before. 

Pris walked towards the cabinet where his dishes were stored, completely unaware of her friend’s moment of doubt. She took out a plate and started to fill it with food for herself. “Don’t you remember? You agreed to go to a party with me tonight.”

“What?!” He exclaimed. He snatched an empty plate from her hands and ladled on a small portion of eggs onto his own plate. After a moment’s consideration, he left behind the bacon and pancakes. He had eaten too much the night before and apparently he had a party to attend tonight. He couldn’t afford to cheat on his diet, even if holidays were apparently cheat days. 

“Yup!” Pris cheerfully replied while smugly taking a bite of bacon. “So I was thinking of a matching costume. I still have my Rocky Horror gear if you want to do something easy.”

Jaskier looked up at the suggestion, blood freezing in his veins. “No!” He loudly protested, causing Pris to jump in her seat and drop the eggs off her spoon. “I--I can’t do that, Pris.”

“Okay, okay. It was just a suggestion. We don’t have to do that costume.”

Jaskier let out a sigh of relief and dragged a hand through his hair. He lifted his eyes up to find Pris shooting him a concerned look. Internally cursing himself, he said, “Sorry, Pris, but I lost it in the move.” As he said it, he tasted the bitterness that accompanied that lie, because he knew exactly where it was, in a tiny box on the floor of his closet, specifically the left corner. The box was unassuming, small, and made of cardboard, but what lay inside was anything but; the costume that fueled his worst nightmares.

He would be lying if what Valdo said to him all those Halloween years ago did not still bother him. Obviously it still did, otherwise he wouldn’t have had a mental breakdown in front of Geralt the day before, but for some reason he could not get rid of it. Even though he hadn’t had the chance to wear it for years, he never had the strength to throw it away. Some tiny part of him knew that he should throw it away, but he hoped that one day he would be able to wear it again. Maybe after Geralt whipped him into shape. 

Jaskier was shaken out of his thoughts by Pris’ voice calling out his name. Fixing his eyes on her, he saw her face pinched in confusion and concern. “Jask, where did you go? You were miles away.” She said while taking his hand and tracing nonsensical designs into his skin. 

“Sorry, Pris. Was just thinking about the past. Don’t worry about it.” He patted her hand and removed himself from her grip. It did not take a mind reader to see that she had not believed him, not that he thought she would. He had always been a shit liar. “Let’s just focus on costumes. Do you have any other suggestions?” Jaskier asked, all the while taking a small bite of scrambled eggs. 

For a moment, it looked as though Pris would keep pushing the issue, but after a terse silence she slumped in defeat and unhappily stabbed at her pancake. “No, I don’t, but we could always go shopping.”

Jaskier began to systematically consider a long list of costume options before he remembered the day before. “Why don’t we go as something classic?”

Pris scoffed at his question. “More classic than Rocky Horror?”

Jaskier flinched at the sarcastic tone. Okay, so Pris was not pleased with him. He would have to work on that. “Not more classic, but still classic. How about Buffy?”

There was a moment of silence before Pris chirped happily through a mouthful of pancakes. “Jask, you’re brilliant! Wow, that’s an awesome idea, how have we never thought of that before?”

Jaskier let out a breath of anticipation, relieved that Pris appeared to have forgiven him for the moment. “Actually I can’t take all the credit. I saw a student dressed up as Buffy yesterday. Just was in the back of my mind.”

“Wow, not many teenagers know Buffy anymore. I’m impressed.”

Jaskier nodded. “Yeah, I know. Ciri is apparently well-versed in pop-culture.”

“Ciri?” She asked. “Where did you see Ciri? She’s in High School now.”

“I ran into her and Geralt in the hallway before homeroom.” He looked up from his plate to find Pris leveling him with a knowing look. “Stop it, it’s not like that.”

“Right, of course. Nothing like that at all. He just naturally comes up in conversation every time that we’ve seen each other in the past few months.” Pris cleared her throat and pitched her voice deeper. “Oh Geralt this, Geralt that. Wow look at his hair. Geralt suggested this new book. Oh, Geralt!” She pretended to swoon and broke into giggles at her own impromptu performance. 

Jaskier rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance, even as a smile threatened to break the facade. “Ha ha, hilarious. He is just a friend...a really good friend. He’s really helped me, Pris. I know you like poking fun, but it’s not going to turn into anything.”

The kitchen fell silent save for the sound of his fork pushing the eggs around his plate. It broke with Pris’ voice, quiet in its hesitance. “Do you want it to turn into something?”

Jaskier bit his lip, pushing away the remains of his cold eggs before he looked up into his friend’s warm eyes. “Even if I did, nothing will happen for multiple reasons, the foremost being that we work together….I’ve made that mistake before, Pris, I don’t want to make it again.”

Pris’ face flooded with understanding. “Jask, Geralt is nothing like that piece of shit. He’s a good man.” She stood up and walked over to his perch, taking the chance to place her arms around his shoulders. “I’m sorry that I keep on bringing it up. It’s just that…” She paused, choosing her next words carefully. “Whenever you bring him up you seem...lighter than I’ve seen you in years. He makes you happy.”

Jaskier felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. “Yes, he does make me quite happy, but right now I think that it is for the best that he remains as a friend.” He turns around, a crooked smile splitting his face in two. “Besides, you’re making the assumption that I make him just as happy. If anything I’ve only brought further stress into his life. He views me as a friend and colleague, as it should be.”

He felt Pris’ arms loosen around his shoulders as she bodily spun him around. “Jaskier, I can guarantee you that your friendship makes that man incredibly happy. I had never seen him smile more than four times before he met you. Now, I see him smile that many times in a single lunch. Don’t doubt that you bring joy to that man’s life.” 

With that, she ruffled his hair and began to clean up the kitchen, giving Jaskier the time to process what she had said. Geralt had a beautiful smile. It was like the sun coming out on a cloudy day, chasing away any gloomy thoughts with a single appearance. Jaskier had noticed his reticence to smile when they were first getting to know one another, but recently his smile made increasingly frequent appearances. Well, it was more common during their lunches and became less so whenever they were discussing his...issues. Maybe he could make Geralt happy, but first he had to stop being such a basket case. 

His attention was drawn back to his present whereabouts when he heard a dish clatter in the sink. “You’d better not be breaking my plates, Pris. I like that set,” he said half-heartedly, still preoccupied on Geralt. In response, she flicked water in his direction, quickly followed by the middle finger. He gasped dramatically as he felt the tepid water touch his skin. “Fiend! You shall never get away with this.” He declared before getting up to get his revenge. 

Moving as quickly as his hangover would allow, Jaskier moved towards the sink, picking up a spare hand towel to use as a makeshift shield. He could hear Pris’ shriek of joy and feel another attack of water soak his shirt. “Attacked in my own home! I will have retribution, you wicked woman!” Taking a final step he grabbed the sink hose and pressed the button, dousing Pris in water. 

“Aghhh!” She yelled out in shock. After taking a moment to recover, she began to slowly swoon towards the floor, all whilst yelling, “I’m melting, I’m melting! Oh please, good sir, take pity on me!” 

Jaskier laughed and pretended to consider the plea. “Hmmm, I guess if you swear fealty to me, then I can forgive you your slight.” Pris frantically nodded her head in agreement. “Very well, all is forgiven.” He offered his hand and tugged her off the floor, only to be greeted by a wet hug. “Ugh, Pris, stop!!” He weakly protested, but did not shrug her off. 

“Never! I demand hugs for all eternity.” She declared in a regal tone that contradicted the sopping state of her hair and clothes. 

“I guess I can comply with those demands.” He grumbled as he tightened the hug. “Thanks for being there when I need you.”

He felt her lips curl into a smile on his shoulder. “Always.” 

They stayed in that position for what could have been seconds or eons, but eventually they detached from one another. “So, who are we going as from Buffy?”

Jaskier groaned at the question, dreading what the night would bring. As though she had read his mind, Pris cupped his face and said, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I just thought it might be fun for you to go out. You haven’t had the chance to for a long time.”

He nodded into her hand. “Yeah, I know, that’s what I’m worried about.” Immediately, he was frozen in place under Pris’ questioning stare, wordlessly probing him for further information. He sighed and removed her hand from his face. “I haven’t gone out to a party since I broke up with Valdo. I haven’t...flirted with anyone in years. I’m not sure if I even can anymore, or if I even want to. What if I make a fool of myself?” He finished his explanation with his chest feeling a bit tighter than was comfortable, but thankfully still grounded in reality. 

“Oh Jask,” Pris breathed out. “You will have no trouble finding anyone, if you so choose. Anyone with eyes would take you up on any offer and if you decide that you’d rather not make any moves, then I will spend the night by your side. You don’t  _ have  _ to do anything.”

Jaskier snorted at her claim that anyone would go for him. Of course, she would say that. She was practically strong armed into saying it as his best friend. “I don’t want to ruin your night because I’m a basket case, Pris. You should enjoy your Halloween. Go out, make stupid decisions, have fantastic sex! Go live your life.”

She vehemently shook her head. “First off, you are not a basket case, and if you say so again I will have to fight you to defend my best friend’s honor.” Jaskier was about to mention that beating him up would not be appreciated, but he was cut off before he could get a word in edgewise. “Secondly, I won’t enjoy my Halloween without you, so if you really don’t want to go we can have another movie night. No pressure.”

Jaskier felt like he was going to cry. He had no idea what he had done in a past life to get a friend as loyal as Pris, but he was damn happy that it had happened. Without her, he would still be living under Valdo’s thumb, miserable and frightened for the rest of his life. The least he owed her was a fun Halloween. “No, no we can go.” A withering look was sent in his direction as she evaluated the veracity of his statement. “I’m serious. I’ll give it a shot, but I might end up leaving early, okay?”

His best friend nodded and smiled brightly at him. “Of course. I’ll leave when you do. It will be fun!”

“Yeah, fun…” Jaskier replied, not totally convinced. “Now, come one, we have costumes to coordinate.” He grabbed Pris by the hand and dragged her towards the couch, hoping that he was not making a horrible mistake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter and that it was good enough gift to all of you lovely followers after such a long hiatus. Let me know your thoughts below <3


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt broods and gets a visit from an unexpected visitor...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Phew what a few weeks! To anyone else living in the USA, good job on making it through elections without having a heart attack. In other news, I have started a new job selling bread...honestly, I don't know how this happened, but here we are! Thank you all for your patience and your continuing interest in this story. I will be posting again within the next week! Thanks again to my amazing beta reader Processpending and I hope that you enjoy!

“Bye Dad!” Ciri screamed as she slammed the door behind her. Geralt stood glued to the floor, staring at the door and the space that his little girl had occupied not a moment before. It took all his considerable restraint to stop himself from running after her to double-check that she had everything she would need for the night. She would be furious if he embarrassed her like that in front of her friends. Instead, he just continued to stare at the door.

After an embarrassingly long amount of time had passed, he sighed and headed towards the couch. On the way, he picked up a large bag of convenience store candy and a plastic cauldron to put it in. Ciri might be gone for the night, but he still had one job: pass out candy.

As he plopped down onto the couch, he heard the familiar sound of Roach trotting over to his side. He turned his head towards the sound and patted the space next to him. With a wagging tail, she immediately leapt into her unofficial spot, baring her soft underbelly for pets and rubs. “Only for tonight,” Geralt grumbled under his breath. “You know you’re only allowed up here when Ciri isn’t home, otherwise she’ll think that I’m going soft.” Roach answered with a huff of contentment while he rubbed her tummy.

Geralt grimaced at the thought of Ciri. Two days prior, she had come home and stated that she had plans to go to a party for Halloween. To say that he hadn’t taken the news well was an understatement. Instead, he interrogated her about every detail about the party, which had led to Ciri storming up to her bedroom, screaming about how he was the worst father in the world, and a burning sensation behind his eyes. Had he been a little overprotective? Possibly, but only because he cared. He knew what kinds of things happened at parties, he was a health teacher for fucks sake; however, that logic did not comfort him when Ciri critiqued his parenting skills. 

After taking the time to calm down, he had gone upstairs to coax her out of her room. Although she had not been pleased with him, she had deigned to tell him more about the party. Turned out that it wasn’t the rager he had been dreading, but a slumber party with Dara and a few other close friends. Ciri had immediately seen the panic slip off his face and had smirked. “You thought I was going to a  _ party  _ party, didn’t you?” Before he could form a response, she had said, “Dad, why would I want to go to one of those? They don’t even give out good candy there!”

Shaking his head fondly at the memory, Geralt ceased petting Roach and grabbed the bag of candy. Roach whined at the loss of contact, but Geralt shook his head and said, “Sorry, Roach, but the kids will be disappointed if I don’t put out the candy and might overrun the house to find some. It’s for the greater good.” The whining stopped, but Roach still looked at him with doleful eyes. “Later,” he said and then poured the candy into the cauldron. 

It took him only a few seconds to realize that he now had nothing to do but wait. Fuck. Grabbing the TV remote and a Twix bar, he settled into the couch, waiting for kids to start trick-or-treating. After flicking through all the channels, he settled on  _ Scream _ , a movie he hadn’t watched in years because of Ciri. 

At the thought of his daughter, Geralt frowned and took a bite of the mini Twix bar in hand. This was the first time in almost a decade that he wasn’t spending Halloween with Ciri. For years, he had planned the holiday around her whims and pleasures, but now she didn’t need him anymore. How long would it be before she just didn’t need him period? With a loud sigh, he picked out a mini Hershey’s bar and popped it into his mouth and attempted to focus on the bloodthirsty teenagers on the screen to pass the time. 

A quick glance at the clock told him that it was 5:30 PM. ‘Strange,’ he idly thought while popping in another chocolate bar, ‘Trick-or-Treaters should have arrived by now.’ At that moment, he heard his phone ring from the other side of the couch. Without a moment’s hesitation, he dove towards the noise and located it in between the cushions. What if it was Ciri? What if she had forgotten something important, like her epi-pen? Well, the odds of there being bees in a house during the autumn were slim, but what if she needed it? Finally retrieving the phone, he saw that the call was not from his daughter, but from Lambert. “What the fuck?” He mumbled under his breath. After a small hesitation, he sent his brother to voicemail and turned his focus back towards the television. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak to his annoying, little brother...it’s just that he didn’t want to speak to his annoying, little brother at that exact moment. Geralt’s eye twitched at the thought of spending the night under Lambert’s interrogation. For the past few weeks, the red-headed man had spent most of their time together asking increasingly bawdy questions concerning Jaskier. Geralt had little to no doubt that Lambert would continue the trend tonight if he had the chance. For both his sanity and his brother’s continued existence, Geralt would not be engaging that conversation tonight. 

He knew that Lambert meant well, despite his natural prickliness, but all he wanted was a night to sulk in his home with a bucketful of candy. One night of watching mindless television to take away his concerns and fears about one loquacious music teacher and his vivacious teen daughter. Geralt rolled his eyes, privately thinking that Jaskier’s flowery language was beginning to rub off on him.

A sharp rap on the door disturbed him from his thoughts and sent him walking towards the door. He unlocked the door and said, “Trick or Tr--” only to trail off when he recognized the face in front of him. With a scowl, he grunted out, “Aren’t you a bit old to be trick-or-treating?” As he turned his back to the open door, retreating into his house. 

Lambert grinned at the grumpy greeting and followed his brother into the house. “Young at heart, which is more than I can say for you.” Geralt sent a withering glare in his direction that would have made lesser men tremble in fear. “I can’t  _ believe _ that you sent me to voicemail, you absolute prick!”

“You’re the prick in the family. I’m more like a dick and Eskel is a lovable teddy bear. We decided this years ago,” Geralt snarked back, all the while taking his seat back on the couch, surrounded by a wall of candy wrappers. “Candy?” he asked, holding out a Twix in Lambert’s direction.

Lambert silently took in the room and his brother’s pile of candy wrappers. “Right. This is just sad,” he said, gesturing towards Geralt, who had taken Lambert’s extended silence as a no, thus eating the candy. “You’re only 35, not dead! You should be out having a good time, not sitting alone in a pile of candy wrappers, looking like someone pissed in your cheerios.”

There was a silence in the room as Geralt ignored Lambert and continued to watch the television. Lambert grabbed a pillow and chucked it at Geralt’s head with all the strength he possessed and gleefully watched as it bounced off his head and mussed up his hair. Geralt jolted up, looking for the assailant, until his eyes focused on Lambert. The younger man smiled and waved at Geralt cheekily. “Lambert, what the fuck?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you could hear me? I wasn’t certain with the way you were completely ignoring everything I said!” Geralt groaned and turned back towards the television, but Lambert could tell that he had won this round by the way his brother’s shoulders slumped and his eyes kept glancing in his direction. “Get dressed in something sexy. We are going to a party.”

That grabbed Geralt’s full attention, his body turning back fully towards the red-head. “A party? No, I have to stay at home to hand out candy.”

“Leave the candy outside and let the little gremlins sort themselves out.”

“They’ll take everything and leave nothing for the little kids.”

“What is this, a John Hughes movie? That shit doesn’t happen and even if it does it isn’t your problem!” Geralt glared at him, not backing down from his argument. “Come on, why don’t you  _ really _ want to go out to a party?”

Geralt stared him down for at least a minute before backing down, tearing away his eye contact and glaring a hole into the wooden floorboards. “What if Ciri needs me? What if something happens in the middle of the night and she needs me to pick her up?”

Lambert’s expression softened for a minute as he sat down beside his brother. “Then she can call Yennefer. You deserve a night off, Geralt. When’s the last time you went out?”

A look of consternation passed over Geralt’s face as he pursed his lips. “I still go out. I went out to that party on New Years.”

Lambert fixed him with an unimpressed look. “Geralt, that was two years ago and you refused to drink more than one beer, because you were afraid that Ciri would call and you would need to go home.”

Geralt shrugged his shoulders. “But I went out to a party,” he argued back before slumping into the couch. 

“No. No, this is unacceptable. You used to be fun! You used to have a life! What happened to the Geralt that took six body shots in an hour, got banned from a bar, and woke up on a roof the next morning sandwiched between a hot married couple?”

“He grew up,” Geralt replied in an irritated tone. “I’m a father, Lambert, not to mention a teacher. I can’t just go around acting like an idiot whenever I want to. I have responsibilities, something you could never understand.” Geralt clenched his jaw in vexation before taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Why do you even care if I go out tonight? Just go enjoy the night with your boyfriend and leave me be.”

There was a moment of silence where tension brewed between the two brothers, each waiting for the other to make their next move. Lambert placed his hand on Geralt’s shoulder and fixed him with a stern expression. “Look, I know that you’ve had a tough time since the divorce and your tour, but you deserve to have a fun night on the town, you prickly bastard, and if you refuse to bang that hot twink you keep bringing to the gym--”

“--He’s not a twink,” Geralt protested.

“Fine, that hot piece of ass that you’re training at  _ my  _ gym, then you deserve to go out and explore your options for the evening.” Lambert waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his brother before Geralt shoved him onto the couch.

“You’re the worst, I hope you know that,” Geralt murmured under his breath even as a smirk curled onto his lips. 

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” Lambert replied, equally snarky. “Come on, it’s a party at Aiden’s bar. You like Aiden! I’m sure you’ll have a fun time, whether you find a partner for the night or not, old man.”

Geralt scowled in his brother’s direction and threw a half-hearted punch that Lambert easily dodged. “I’m not old,” Geralt replied. He was not pouting, he was just displeased that his brother called him old. “I’m only 35.”

“Really?” Lambert questioned. “The hair says differently. Definitely DILF material, Ger.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he replied half-heartedly. “Fine, I’ll go to this stupid party with you, but I don’t know why you asked me and not Eskel.”

“Oh, I already asked Eskel. He said no. Something about keeping the bakery open late for a Halloween event.” Lambert shrugged his shoulders, only focusing on the fact that Geralt had agreed to go to a party. Honestly, he was surprised. He had expected a flat out no and to be kicked out on his ass for his troubles. It was a pleasant surprise that his grumpy brother had actually decided to hear him out for once.

“So I’m your second choice!” Geralt replied, unimpressed with his younger brother’s antics. 

“No, I had planned to bring Eskel with me to make sure that you would definitely come out, but our merry trio is now down to two. Don’t make me go solo, or I’ll be a pain in your ass at the gym for the next week.”

Geralt snorted at the weak threat. “You’re already a pain in my ass, Lambert. How couldn’t you be with a name like Lambert?” Before he could defend his honor, Geralt barreled onwards. “Anyways, you wouldn’t be alone, you would have Aiden, so why should I come with you to be a third-wheel?”

Lambert removed the cauldron of candy off Geralt’s lap and proceeded to tug his brother off of the couch and towards the bedroom. “Because Aiden owns the bar and will be working for most of the night to make sure that it doesn’t burn down in the madness. So you won’t be third-wheeling, you’ll be accompanying me and possibly finding someone nice to talk to. Maybe someone with pretty, blue eyes, “ Lambert suggested with a butter wouldn’t melt expression on his face as he sorted through Geralt’s closet.

“Stop,” Geralt warned. “I told you, nothing is happening with Jaskier. Don’t pry.” He pushed his brother out of the way and grabbed the makings for his Dread Pirate Robert’s costume out of the hamper. After giving them a quick sniff, he declared them wearable for another night.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I believe you? Oh right, because I see you with him most everyday, he makes you smile more than you have in years, and he is  _ exactly  _ your type.” Lambert innocently shrugs his shoulders. “Can’t imagine  _ why  _ I’d think that you two are perfect for one another.”

For a brief moment, Geralt contemplated throwing his brother out on his ass, as Lambert had self-predicted, but held back his ire. Even though he was a prick, his brother was right about him being...antisocial. He hadn’t been out to a social event with only adults in years and he had promised Ciri that he would start looking for a partner again. The least that he could do was try for her. After a deep calming breath, Geralt evenly responded, “He’s my co-worker, not interested in me, and going through some shit right now. Even if I did want something with him it doesn’t matter, so stop pressing the issue.” With that, Geralt took Lambert’s arm, escorted him out of the bedroom and slammed the door in his face.

Lambert leaned against the door frame, waiting for his brother to emerge, contemplating the warring emotions that had fought for dominance on his brother’s normally placid face. Clearly, he had touched a nerve with bringing up Jaskier, but he couldn’t help it. Yes, he had been a bit of a prick, but only because he wanted his brother to be happy, and if that meant forcing Geralt to look past his own pigheadedness, then so be it. As he contemplated his next move, Geralt opened the door in his costume. Lambert frowned and looked him over before nodding in approval. “Good, you look hot. Let’s go.”

Geralt nodded before looking over Lambert in confusion. “Wait, where is your costume?” He asked. 

Lambert smirked and walked over to his coat, pulling out a stick. “Ron Weasley, but older and sexier.” He winked at his brother and reveled in the laugh that his costume pulled from his brother. 

“Nice one, but not easily identifiable,” Geralt teased, while pulling up the Uber app on his phone. He entered the information and immediately found a driver a minute away. Taking one last look at Roach, he unlatched the dog door so she could go out if needed, and gave her a goodbye pet.

“Well at least I’m not dressed up as a sexy fireman, like a certain someone I know,” He snarked back, shouldering Geralt on the way out of the door. 

Geralt placed the cauldron of candy outside the door with a suffering sigh. “That was  _ one time _ !” He exclaimed, locking the door behind him, hoping that this night wouldn’t end in a bar fight or regret. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're both heading to a party. I wonder what will happen next? Anyways, thanks for continuing to read my story. You guys are amazing and really make me feel confident about continuing to write. Let me know your thoughts below <3


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Pris arrive at the party and see some new and familiar faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! For all my fellow American readers, I hope that you had a lovely Thanksgiving. It's been a rough year, but I hope that you were all able to safely enjoy the holiday. To everyone else, I hope that you are staying safe and healthy, especially with the winter holidays approaching. Thank you for being so patient with my slow updates! I would like to thank my beta, Processpending, for one again helping to shape this story into something readable. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Jaskier’s eyes widened in slight panic as Pris dragged him from the Uber, depositing them both in front of a brown, wooden door. Though the bar door was closed, the raucous sounds of drunken revelry flooded out from underneath the door. Jaskier tugged at the ends of his oversized leather jacket, unconsciously working away the nervous energy building up within him, as he read the lit up sign above the door: The 21st Amendment. He let out a short chuckle at the pun, mentally reminding himself to revisit the establishment, if just for the name. He’d always had a weakness for puns and dad jokes. 

His self-reflection came to an abrupt end when Pris leaned up against his side, using her wooden stake to incessantly poke his cheek. “Be careful with that,” he drily remarked. “Last I checked, wooden stakes could kill me.”

Pris snorted and grabbed him by the arm, leading him towards the door. “Lucky for you, you’re Angel, not Angelus, so Faith would have no reason to kill you at the moment.” They came to a stop in front of the door as she bodily turned him to face her. “But I do have reason to ask if you’re still okay going to this party. It’s not too late to turn back.”

Jaskier hesitated for a moment before replying, “No, it’ll be fun.” Pris leveled him with a disbelieving expression, and he could not blame her in the least. Even to his own ears his response sounded stilted and unconvincing, but he refused to go back home. He had agreed to attend the party and he would follow through on it. Not only had he given his word, but Geralt had been correct about one thing; Valdo was gone and he’d be damned if he allowed that bastard to define his life. He could do this.

Before he could talk himself out of his decision, he grabbed Pris’ hand and barreled through the front door. This was his life and he was done sitting on the sidelines as it passed him by. 

The bar was dimly lit, but clean and obviously well-cared for, with sleek wooden counters and a large area cleared for dancing. As his eyes scanned the room, he saw several people already deep in their cups holding a beverage that appeared to be smoking off the top. Everyone had a smile gracing their face as they danced to the pounding bass that reverberated throughout the room. He was surprised to feel a smile spread across his own face. Maybe this wouldn’t be as awful as he’d predicted. 

“Come on!” Pris yelled over the music. “Let’s get some drinks.” With a squeeze of his hand she started navigating through the crowd of people, pressing between the small spaces that separated groups of people. Jaskier followed her, clutching onto her hand, but for the first time that evening he was not doing so out of terror, but out of excitement. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed being around people until he was forced out of his seclusion. Yes, he was still nervous, but that ball of anxiety had shrunk to a manageable size that he could easily ignore. 

As they reached the bar, Jaskier saw Pris’ smile grow as she caught sight of the harried bartender that was in the middle of building a cocktail. He was handsome, Jaskier idly noted, with short-cropped, chestnut hair and bright green eyes. Even with the stressed expression gracing his features he was undeniably attractive. It definitely helped that the pin-striped, old-fashioned suit he wore was perfectly tailored to his slim, but fit build. The bartender soon noticed Pris’ gaze and a soundless chuckle broke through his lips. Without another word, he handed off a pair of the smoking drinks to the customers and hurried over in their direction.

“Pris!” The man cried out in glee, before greeting her in an enthusiastic hug. “It’s been too long. How are you?”

Pris’ laugh rang out as the slightly shorter man tightened his grip. “Aiden, it’s only been a week!”

“Yup! A week too long!” The bartender, Aiden, Jaskier’s mind helpfully supplied, let go of Pris and looked over at Jaskier. “And you must be Jaskier! Oh, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Pris talks about you all the time.”

Jaskier took Aiden’s proffered hand and shook it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aiden. So do you work here?” As he said the words, he internally winced. ‘Do you work here?’ He thought to himself. ‘Of course he works here. Smooth, Jask.’ 

Aiden chuckled at that, but the sound was devoid of cruelty, instead managing to tamp down the rising panic in the teacher’s chest. “Yeah, you could say that.” He turned to Pris and said, “Honestly, Pris, did you tell Jaskier nothing about me?” With a playful shrug, Pris elbowed Aiden in the ribs. Aiden rubbed his ribs in protest and turned back towards Jaskier. “Yes, I work here, but I also own the place. Welcome to The 21st Amendment.” With a flourish of his arms, he led their small group towards the bar. 

As Aiden made his way behind the bar Jaskier gave Pris a small glare. “What?” She innocently asked. 

He leveled her with an incredulous look. “You could have told me that your friend  _ owned  _ the bar. Or even his name!” He hissed into her ear, his voice tinged with slight annoyance. 

Pris laughed. “Don’t worry, he liked you. And before you ask, he’s already taken, so don’t worry about impressing him like that.” With a saucy wink, she turned back to Aiden who had taken up his position at the bar. “So, what’s on the menu tonight, bartender?”

Aiden smirked at her question and flicked her with the towel sitting on his shoulder. “You are getting The Special, tonight.” As he started throwing various liquids into the tumbler, he asked, “So what’s your costume?”

Jaskier lifted up a finger signalling him to wait, while Pris pulled out her wooden stake and he put on his most broody face. Aiden laughed and replied, “So you’re Angel and Faith.” Jaskier nodded as his lips twitched upwards, officially breaking character. “Good choice. I’m a 20s mobster who’s angry about the 21st amendment.” 

There was a moment of silence between the group before they all burst into uncontrollable laughter. After they had settled down, Jaskier looked up and locked eyes with Pris and they both exploded into a fit of giggles. The combination of the atmosphere and the wonderful company had Jaskier feeling drunk without having taken a sip of alcohol, although that was soon to change as Aiden passed them two smoking drinks. “Don’t drink it until it stops smoking. It could kill you.” Pris and Jaskier nodded in tandem as he pulled out his wallet. “Oh no! Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

“What? No, take it,” Jaskier insisted, pressing the card into the other man’s hand. 

Aiden held his hand in place and transferred the card back to Jaskier. “No, I insist. If you want to make it up to me, go out there and have a fun time. Shouldn’t be too hard for a handsome guy like you.” With a grin and a wink, the bar owner walked off to take care of the constantly growing line of customers. 

Jaskier stood there shocked into silence, attempting to process Aiden’s words before turning back towards Pris. He was greeted with a grin and sparkling mischievous eyes. “Did that just happen?” He asked, still dazed at the interaction.

“Yup. He’s an incorrigible flirt, but then again so is his boyfriend, Lambert.”

“Lambert?” Jaskier asked, suddenly on high alert. 

“Yeah, Lambert. Why do you ask? Are you looking for a threesome or something, because I’m not sure if--” 

“No, no,” Jaskier interrupted, shaking his head. This was a big city, there had to be multiple people named Lambert. The odds of it being Geralt’s brother were slim. He just had to spend the night trying to get his handsome co-worker off of his mind. “It’s nothing, let’s go dance.” 

One glance at Pris told him how unconvinced she was of his dismissal, but she nodded her head and grabbed their drinks before heading towards the dance floor. As they entered the floor, the song turned to an old favorite of theirs from their college days. Pris turned to him with a bright smile as he twirled her underneath his arm. 

As he led Pris out to the center of the floor, he felt conflicted. Upon accepting the invitation to this party, his biggest fear had been the prospect of dancing. Although he was naturally an excellent dancer, both professionally and recreationally, he hadn’t truly danced in years. Valdo didn’t like going out to clubs and had always criticized his partying habits, often claiming that the younger man just wanted to go out because he was bored of their relationship. The accusations often led Jaskier to cancel his plans, with the rationale that going out one night wasn’t worth the argument. After a few months of canceled plans, the invitations he received from his friends slowed down to a trickle and finally stopped altogether. Once his friends stopped asking him out for a night on the town, he found that he didn’t really have the energy or will to dance anymore. All those thoughts flitted through his mind, but began to melt away the moment that his hips started swinging to the beat. 

Pris let out a whoop as Jaskier gyrated his hips in a smooth, seductive motion while keeping his drink aloft. The two friends began to sing to the chorus: 

_ I’m beautiful in my way _

_ 'Cause God makes no mistakes _

_ I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way _

_ Don't hide yourself in regret _

_ Just love yourself and you're set _

_ I'm on the right track, baby _

_ I was born this way (born this way) _

It was at that point that he noticed a beautiful woman making her way over to him on the dance floor. He looked over his shoulder, under the assumption that she was making eyes at someone right behind him. There was no way that someone that beautiful would walk over to him in a bar. Maybe when he was younger, but definitely not now. However, with a quick peak he realized that no one was dancing behind him. He turned back towards the woman who was dancing towards him with sultry eyes and dark ringlets framing her tan face.

She finally reached Jaskier and Pris’ little corner of space they had carved out for themselves and swayed her hips to the music while staring into his eyes. Jaskier spared a glance at Pris who was sending a smirk in his direction. After checking to see if the smoke had stopped, he took a sip and sent the woman a shy, but genuine smile. He hadn’t attempted to flirt with someone for years, but the basics of making eye contact and smiling seemed like a good place to start.

Apparently he was correct, because at that moment the lady stepped closer and pressed her hips flush to him and started moving to the beat of the music. At that point, muscle memory took over as he pressed a hand to the small of her back to pull her closer. She smiled at the movement and moved even closer, tracing her hands along his sides, causing him to tense for a moment, but he relaxed as she showed no signs of disappointment. 

She leaned her head closer to his ear and breathed out, “I’m Essi.” 

Jaskier smiled and responded, “That’s a beautiful name. I’m Jaskier.”

She nodded and they continued to move their bodies to the beat, entwining themselves ever closer on the dance floor. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, there were lips on his own. Although he was surprised, he gladly reciprocated to the slightly sloppy, but hot-blooded kiss. He moaned into the feeling of warm, luscious lips plying open his own with determination. She smiled into the kiss as he stroked his silky white hair and pulled him--wait. 

Jaskier suddenly pulled away from Essi, feeling as though a bucket of ice had been dumped on his head. He hadn’t been tugging white, silky hair, but brunette curls. The eyes that met his were not amber eyes filled with warmth and concern, but were instead dark brown and filled with confusion. As he took in the situation, he could see Essi beginning to say something, but before she could speak he said, “Sorry. I need a drink. It was lovely to meet you.” And quickly made his escape. 

As he pushed his way through the crowd, he chastised himself. ‘For fucks sake, you’re supposed to be getting over your stupid crush, not imagining making out with him. That poor woman probably thinks I’m a nutcase.’ He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the person walking towards him and ran straight into them, spilling his drink all over them in the process. 

“Shit! I am so sorry, let me--” but he cut himself off when he looked up and saw a familiar set of eyes. “Geralt?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, what a cliffhanger! What's going to happen now? Tune in next week to find out!
> 
> Sorry, I'm corny AF. For those of you who do not know, the bar name, The 21st Amendment, refers to the amendment to the US Constitution that lifted the ban on alcohol that existed from 1919-1933. Thank God for the 21st amendment. In case you missed it, Jask and Pris were dressed as Faith and Angel from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the song they danced to was "Born This Way" by Lady Gaga. Thank you guys for continuing to read this story. Let me know what you think in the comments below! Stay safe! xxx


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Lambert have some brotherly bonding and Geralt sees someone familiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope that you are all staying safe out there. I can't believe that 2020 is almost over! When I woke up to my Spotify Unwrapped yesterday morning, I was shocked to say the least (P.S. Her Sweet Kiss made the cut!) Anyways, thank you all for continuing to read my work. Thank you, as always, to Processpending for always reading my work and helping me to create this story. I hope that you all enjoy!

Geralt huffed a heavy sigh into his beer as his eyes scanned across the room. So far, the party had been going exactly as he had predicted, with his brother spending the past two hours making moon eyes at his boyfriend from afar, doing a spectacular expression of a lovestruck fool. All the while, Geralt spent his time brooding in a corner, occasionally checking his phone to see if an appropriate amount of time had passed so he could make his excuses and leave. At that moment, he tapped his phone and bit back a groan upon reading the time. If he wanted to keep Lambert off his back he would have to spend at least another hour at the bar, and even then his brother would give him shit.

It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy a good party. As Lambert had so astutely observed earlier that evening, he had been quite the partier in his youth, a quality that had caused his father, Vesemir, a lot of stress and might have contributed to the premature greying of his hair; at least, that’s what his father claimed anytime he called to vent about the struggles of parenting. But that had all changed after his tour, after Renfri. A shudder ran through his body that he tried to hide by taking another drink, but Lambert had shifted his attention and fixed him with a questioning look. Geralt just nodded to signal that he was fine and the two brothers returned back to their previous activities: brooding and staring. 

The party was nice, but it was so loud, not to mention the crowds of people everywhere. In normal circumstances, he would be able to ignore the slight feeling of panic creeping up into his throat, but the stress of Ciri’s evening plans and his ever present thoughts about Jaskier compounded to make this event nearly unbearable. Taking in a deep breath, Geralt focused on the taste of the beer as he swirled it around his tongue. It was a good brew. He would have to ask Aiden what brewery it came from. 

Geralt was startled out of his spiraling thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. “Are you done brooding now?” Lambert asked. Although the tone was jovial, the concerned glint in Lambert’s eyes hinted at the true purpose of asking that question. 

“I’m not brooding, I’m drinking.”

“Ah, of course. Well in that case, why don’t you and I get up and head to the dance floor? It’ll be fun.” 

Geralt grunted and looked down at his drink. “No.” he replied. Lambert looked at him for a moment, obviously waiting for him to elaborate, but when he remained silent, the younger man repeated, “No?”

“No.”

“Oh, so you mean yes! Great, let’s go.” A firm hand grabbed at his own and tried to pry him from his seat. 

Geralt tore his hand from his younger brother’s grip, leveling him with a scowl that would make any other man back away and beg for mercy. “No. No as in, no I do not want to dance.”

Lambert rolled his eyes, turning towards the dance floor for a moment before fixing all of his attention on Geralt. “Come on, man. You aren’t meeting anyone sitting here in a corner! This could be fun if you actually let yourself enjoy something for once!”

“Hey! I’m not the one who wanted to come to this party! You dragged me here, so I’m sorry if I’m not being fun enough for you.” Geralt bit out, frustrated at how annoying his brother could be. He had been having a normal, albeit not adventurous, night when his brother forced him to go out and see people. Why did everyone assume that he _wanted_ to meet new people? Before Lambert could respond, he voiced his frustrations, “And who says that I want to meet anyone? Why are you always pestering me to meet someone? Maybe I’m happy as I am, did you think of that?”

Lambert snorted derisively. “Yeah, sure, you’re so happy that I found you sitting alone on your couch eating an entire bag of candy by yourself. If you’re so fucking happy, why do you always seem to be so miserable?” The last question was hissed out and caused Geralt to slump back in his seat. His brother looked surprised at his own words, but then straightened his face into a neutral expression before sitting down next to him. “Look, I just wanted you to have a fun night. If you want to go, fine, but I think you might actually have fun if you let yourself.” Lambert paused for a moment, as though he were considering his next words, and then gritted his teeth as he said, “Please.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow in shock. He had only heard Lambert use the word ‘please’ a handful of times. It was a huge source of contention between his brother and Vesemir as they were growing up. If he was saying please, Geralt knew that this was incredibly important to him. He clenched his jaw as he considered his options. He could leave, but then Lambert would be pissy for God knows how long. The other option was that he could stay. Taking another look around the club, he steeled himself, knowing that his decision had already been made. 

“Fine.” He replied, looking towards his brother, just to find that his attention had already been pulled back towards Aiden. Geralt rolled his eyes in annoyance and punched his brother’s shoulder, but got no immediate acknowledgement. “Lambert, what the fuck?”

“Sorry,” he replied distractedly. “There’s this guy standing at the bar and Aiden is looking at him.” As he explained, he started trying to shift his body in his seat to get a better view of this stranger. 

Geralt squinted his eyes, also trying to get a good look at the man. He was too far away, so he could only see an oversized black, leather jacket and a brunette head of hair. “Lambert, it is literally Aiden’s job to look at people. He’s a bartender.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.” Lambert shot back. “But that’s the look he usually gives me. That means he thinks that guy is hot.” Geralt had to hold back a smirk at the whiny tone in his brother’s voice. At that moment, it was easy to see that Lambert was the youngest sibling. 

“Lambert, you know that Aiden loves you. He’s not going to leave you for some guy he served alcohol to.” Geralt knew that his brother was a little insecure about his relationship with Aiden. Although they had known each other for years, it wasn’t until recently that they had finally declared their love for each other. Actually, it was more like Aiden making declarations and his idiot brother standing there, doing a marvelous impression of a drowning fish. Either way, Lambert was still convinced that Aiden would wake up one day and leave, realizing that he was too good for him. 

Eskel had once tried to suggest that this stemmed from his general fear of abandonment, but after Lambert punched him and refused to speak to him for three weeks the topic was not broached again. Although his fears pertaining to Aiden had diminished with time, they would occasionally pop up, especially if he was aggravated about something else. Geralt cursed himself for causing his brother unnecessary stress. It was Halloween, Lambert deserved to enjoy himself, not worry about his old recluse of a brother. 

“Right.” Lambert replied unevenly, swallowing as he said it. “But that guy looks--Holy shit!” He shouted, a look of recognition spreading across his shocked visage. 

“What?” Geralt asked, turning around and squinting to try and see what his brother had seen. “Who is it?”

Out of nowhere, Lambert took him by the shoulder and pushed him back down into his seat, effectively blocking his sightline to the bar. “Nothing.” He replied, sounding too casual to be truthful.

“Lambert, what is going on? Why are you acting weird?” At the lack of an answer, Geralt pushed his brother out of the way, ignoring the sharp yelp that escaped the younger man’s lips. Immediately, he understood why Lambert hadn’t been forthcoming about the stranger’s identity. He was honestly surprised that he hadn’t recognized the chestnut hair and strong shoulders at first sight. It was Jaskier, now making his way through the crowd with Priscilla, dressed in jeans, a black v-neck, and a slightly oversized leather jacket. Fuck, he looked good. 

Lambert sighed in frustration as he rubbed his face. “Fuck, I’m sorry man. I didn’t know that he was going to be here.”

It took a moment for him to register what his brother had just said, but when it clicked he turned to him in confusion. “What are you talking about? I thought that you wanted me to, what was it?” Geralt paused, pretending to recall the words that his brother had uttered earlier that evening. “Oh right -- ‘Bang that hot twink’.” 

Lambert glared at him before the fire in his eyes dulled to a mere ember. “Yeah, well, you were very adamant that nothing was happening between the two of you, but it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that you wish that weren’t the case.” A hand was held in front of Geralt’s face to signal that he was not yet finished. “Don’t deny it, I’m not stupid, Gee. I was hoping that tonight would help you get over him, but now that’s obviously not going to work, because you are already ignoring me in favor of watching Pretty Boy dance.”

“Huh?” Geralt responded, transfixed by the way that Jaskier gracefully moved on the floor. The brunette’s body moved fluidly to the music, a pop song that Geralt had heard play on the radio several times, but he had never truly noticed it until he saw Jaskier moving his hips to the rhythm. Had the beat always been so catchy? His concentration was broken by a sharp slap to the back of his head. “Ow, Lambert, what the hell?”

“Did you even listen to a word I said?” Lambert grumbled as he finished his beer. “Look, you know where I stand on this issue. I think that you guys are good together, but I understand if you want to leave.”

Geralt barked out a laugh, focusing his attention back on his brother. “ _Now_ you’ll let me leave. Honestly, you’re giving me whiplash with all these changes of heart.” Lambert scowled back at him, but Geralt didn’t care. Sure, maybe he was a little drunk, but this party just became much more enticing. ‘No,’ he chastised himself, ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’ Anyways, Jaskier didn’t want to see him tonight. Although they had been growing closer, they still only shared the formal bonds of co-workers and fitness coaching. There was no reason to believe that Jaskier -- lovely, vibrant Jaskier -- would want to go to a party with him. That was a boundary that they had not crossed yet, and if he wished for his heart to remain in one piece, it was one that must stay unbroken. 

However, none of that mattered as he watched a pretty, young brunette woman walk towards Jaskier and pull him flush to her body. His heart skipped a beat as he watched the woman pull closer to his ear and yell something into his ear, with a coy smile painted on her full lips. Jaskier smiled back at her, a smile transforming his face into a beauty almost too bright to face head on. All his logic most certainly did not help when they both tilted their heads closer and their lips slotted together like two puzzle pieces, each completing the other. 

He turned away from the scene playing out on the dance floor, flinching as though he had been physically hit. Why did it hurt so much? He needed to get a grip. Jaskier was an adult, he could kiss whoever he wanted, especially with a face like that. Grabbing his glass and tossing the dregs of his beer down his throat, he stood up and looked over at Lambert who sat there watching Jaskier on the floor. “Don’t be a perv, Lamb,” Geralt scolded, gaining his brother’s attention. “I’m getting a refill, you want one?” Before he could hear his brother’s answer he was striding across the floor with purpose. Refill the drinks, he could do that. Maybe that simple task would take his mind off of--

He looked down at his shirt, now soaked through with the mixed drink special of the evening and growled. It seemed like he should have just stayed home and polished off the bag of candy. ‘At least it’s black,’ he thought, before turning his glare on the idiot that had bumped into him. 

His glare softened immediately upon seeing Jaskier standing in front of him, holding a now empty cocktail glass, blue eyes filled with panic and embarrassment. “Geralt, what are you doing here?” Jaskier asked, looking paler by the second.

“Lambert dragged me here, his boyfriend owns the place,” Geralt replied, soaked shirt forgotten as he looked at Jaskier’s bruised lips and mussed up hair. His stomach inexplicably churned at the sight of the music teacher’s disheveled state. Maybe he had eaten too much candy.

Jaskier’s lips opened slightly into a perfect O-shape, the shock of bumping into Geralt still marring his handsome features. “So it _was_ that Lambert.” He whispered under his breath.

“What?” Geralt yelled over the deafening sounds of dancing and revelry. 

Jaskier shook his head. “Nothing.” He replied back while gently fretting about Geralt’s shirt. “I am so sorry about your shirt, I was...preoccupied.”

A grimace worked its way onto Geralt’s face before he tamped down on his raging emotions. “Don’t worry, it’s black. It won’t stain.” 

“But it can’t be comfortable though.” He retorted, looking troubled as he examined the barely noticeable wet spot. “Let me buy you a drink? It’s the least I can do.”

Geralt studied Jaskier’s face, uncertain how to respond to the request. So much had occurred in the past minute that his mind was struggling to process it all, and now Jaskier was asking to buy him a drink? It was all too much. Why would he offer to do that when that beautiful woman was most likely waiting for him to return to her side? Of course, he couldn’t actually _ask_ that question, because that would involve revealing that he had been watching the other man dance like a creep. Where was Pris? Wouldn’t Jaskier rather spend time with his best friend? All of these questions flashed through his mind, nearly impossible to decipher between the noisy atmosphere and the alcohol clouding his thoughts. “Hmmm,” he grunted out, unable to verbalize all the emotions that he was feeling.

“Right, I’ll take that as a yes. Maybe Aiden will have something to help dry your clothes,” Jaskier said and continued to ramble on as he guided him towards the bar. It seemed like he had no choice in the matter. He only hoped that Aiden would provide him with a stiff drink, because after the past few minutes he was sure going to need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger y'all! I really did think that I would finish the party this chapter, but sometimes the story has its own plan! Either way, I hope you enjoyed the story. If you'd like to leave a comment, I always appreciate them :)


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys grab a few drinks and enjoy their holiday!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope that you had an awesome holiday weekend and that you were able to see your loved ones either virtually or in person. Thanks again to Processpending for betaing this chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

When he was younger Jaskier had considered himself a man of luck and charisma. He was charming, handsome, and intelligent enough to squirm out of most situations that he landed himself into. Now he knew that God and Luck both tested and detested him and the proof stood in front of him wearing a soaking shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Of course he would run into Geralt immediately after thinking of him in such an inappropriate manner. Not only had the older man apparated out of thin air, but Jaskier had immediately emptied the contents of his glass onto his shirt. Honestly, sometimes he wondered why he even left his house. 

Jaskier tamped down the self-deprecating thoughts as he wove through the crowd in the direction of the bar, pulling Geralt behind him as they went. Although Geralt possessed the strength to pull his hand away, the man followed docilely, like the gentle giant Jaskier knew him to be. That small detail warmed Jaskier’s heart and pulled a small smile to the corners of his lips. At least the older man trusted Jaskier, though he could not provide a sound reason as to why. 

After elbowing through the last throng of people, Jaskier once again found himself at the bar and immediately caught sight of Aiden. The green-eyed man was finishing a transaction a few feet to their left. “Aiden,” he called out, projecting his voice over the pounding bass and screaming drunks. Aiden turned in his general direction and after a few moments of searching the crowd he made eye-contact. He smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgement before turning back to his current customers.

“He should be over in a minute,” he yelled to his companion. Geralt nodded and continued to gaze at the people surrounding him. Jaskier frowned, noting that his colleague appeared tense and uncomfortable. Though most people would not be able to discern this from Geralt’s face, Jaskier had become learned in the art of reading the other teacher’s emotions. He leaned in closer to his friend and asked “Geralt, are you alright?” 

Geralt tightened his jaw and kept sweeping his eyes around the area. He gave a tight nod, before responding. “I don’t like crowds.” 

“Oh,” Jaskier uttered while looking around the densely packed bar. It made sense. Geralt was tight-lipped concerning his time in service, but there were small tells that the memories still haunted him. The way that he always examined a room for exit points before truly settling. His tense reaction to some sudden noises. The reactions were rare, but they were there to any who cared to look for them. Geralt must be miserable in this kind of place, Jaskier considered. “If you’d like I could meet you back at your seat?”

Geralt gave him another tense shake of the head. “No, ‘M fine.”

Their conversation was cut short by Aiden appearing in front of them. “Hey Jaskier! Geralt! I didn’t know you two knew each other.” The barman greeted them, throwing a towel over his shoulder. “Small world! You here for refills?” 

“Yes please!” Jaskier cheerfully responded. “And also a spare shirt if you have one. I might have spilled my cocktail all over Geralt.” As he said this he rubbed the back of his neck, sending a sheepish grin towards Aiden.

“Ah, yes. I noticed you were looking wetter than when I last saw you. I have a spare shirt or two back here, but they might be too small for you.” Aiden frowned as he pondered the matter, all the while mixing them a new set of cocktails. Suddenly, a cheeky grin broke across his face and he glanced towards Geralt. “Maybe you could go shirtless and give my clientele a Halloween treat.”

Jaskier’s face turned beet-red at the lascivious suggestion as his eyes darted away from Geralt. He couldn’t handle the suggestion of Geralt being half-naked right now,  _ especially _ after the incident that had just occurred on the dance floor. Instead, he stared at a small knob marring the smooth surface of the counter, all the while listening to Geralt’s grunt of protest. 

“Isn’t there a ‘No Shirt, No Shoes’ policy?” 

Aiden laughed as he placed the final touches on their cocktails, which Jaskier idly noticed were not the evening special. “Technically, yes, but since I’m the owner I am allowed to make exceptions.”

Geralt shot him an unimpressed look as he snatched the drinks from the bar. “I think I’ll take my chances with the tight shirts.” After a moment’s hesitation, Geralt said, “By the way, your boyfriend is not having a good time. If I were you, I’d step out from behind the bar and remedy that.”

In an instant, Jaskier watched Aiden’s face shift from carefree to worried as he shifted his weight to get a better look at Lambert. A small frown worked its way onto his handsome face and he nodded distractedly. “Yeah, thanks Geralt. Here,” He said, pulling a t-shirt from underneath the bar and chucking it at his head. “This is really all I have. It’s either this or going shirtless. Now, if you excuse me, I have a boyfriend to check on. Bye Jask, Geralt.” And a second later he scurried away.

Jaskier watched as Geralt unfolded the shirt and audibly groaned. It was a white t-shirt with the words ‘Livin’ La Vida Broka’ sprawling across the front in an obnoxious pink font. It also appeared that Aiden hadn’t been joking about the tightness of the shirt. Just eyeballing it, Jaskier could tell that it was at least two sizes too small to contain Geralt’s hulking form. Geralt gritted his teeth in annoyance but grabbed his drink and nodded his head back towards the booths before taking off in that direction. Although no words had been spoken, Jaskier understood that Geralt meant for him to follow, so he grabbed his own drink and trailed after him. 

When they finally reached a table, Jaskier was surprised to find that Aiden and Lambert were nowhere to be found. “Were you sitting at a different table before?” Jaskier asked while scanning his surroundings to find a trace of red hair. 

Geralt snorted and shook his head. “No, this is my table. If you’re looking for Lambert and Aiden, they’re probably already in Aiden’s office  _ celebrating  _ the holiday.”

“Ah.” Jaskier responded, smirking at the insinuation. “Yes, well I hope they have a very Happy Halloween.” With that he took a seat at the table and settled down. “If you’d like I could watch all of your stuff while you go change.” He could tell that Geralt was uncomfortable in the wet shirt that stuck to his skin and felt incredibly guilty about ruining his friend’s night. The least that he could do was make sure he wasn’t robbed while he went to the bathroom to change.

Geralt nodded and took his drink and shirt as he slid out of the circular booth, but before he left he hesitated. After a moment’s consideration, Geralt carefully placed his drink back on the table in front of Jaskier and then walked towards the bathroom. He watched as Geralt’s distinctive hair disappeared into the crowds of people before sighing and taking a swig of whatever concoction Aiden had made. Whatever it was, it was delicious and Jaskier kept on sipping at it while he considered his options. Yes, Geralt was here and they were getting drinks together, but did the other man truly want to waste more of his time with him? Geralt was a kind man, although most people missed that detail as it was masked by his muscular form and scowling face. However, he had experienced Geralt’s true colors and the depths of his kindness first hand. The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of his colleague’s generosity, especially after spilling an entire cocktail on his broad chest. 

Jaskier was brought out of his brooding by another person sliding into his booth. Looking up in alarm, he found Pris leveling him with an impressive glare. “I have spent that last  _ ten minutes _ looking for you. I was worried sick! What happened? Are you okay?”

He blinked at her anxious monologue and stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine Pris. Just needed some space.”

“Yeah, I got that when you ran off like a spooked animal. But what happened? You seemed like you were having a fun time!”

Jaskier sighed and took another sip of the cocktail as he thought about his answer. He opened his mouth to speak but then was distracted by Geralt slipping back into the booth. Jaskier gasped and burst into laughter, nearly spitting out the mouthful of alcohol he had just imbibed. Geralt wore his normal grumpy visage, but the t-shirt clung to his body like a second set of skin and the pink font did not fit his aesthetic whatsoever.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Pris biting on her lip, vainly trying to hold back her laughter at the sight in front of her. “Hello Geralt.” She greeted, the echo of a laugh dancing in her voice. 

“Pris.” Geralt replied evenly as a blush began to color his face. 

“You should talk to the school district if your paycheck isn’t sufficient.” She said, nodding at his shirt. 

“Hmmmm.” Geralt grunted, grabbing his drink and taking a long sip. 

Jaskier bumped Pris’ shoulder. “I accidentally spilled a drink on Geralt’s shirt and this was the only spare Aiden had.” He turned his attention back towards Geralt. “I’m so sorry about that. If it makes you feel better, you don’t look bad.” Geralt shot him a disbelieving expression. “Truly! Not bad. Maybe a bit odd, but not bad.” His colleague turned back to his drink, but Jaskier could see the small smile playing at the corners of Geralt’s lips that were partially hidden behind the glass. 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to bother you two, so I’m off to find my hot new dancing partner.” With that Pris stood up and started to leave the table.

“Wait!” He called out. She paused and turned back towards him. “You don’t have to go. You can stay if you’d like.” He looked her into her eyes, desperately trying to convey that she didn’t have to go and that he’d like her to stay. However, she smirked and lowered herself near his ear. “Don’t worry, Jask. I won’t be too far. Have fun with your sexy new friend.” And with a playful wink she melted into the crowd. 

Jaskier turned back to Geralt only to find those amber eyes piercing into his soul. “You don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to.” He mumbled. “I understand if you want to go dance with Pris. Don’t feel obligated to end your fun early.” 

His heart broke at those words and he felt perplexed. Why would Geralt think that Jaskier wouldn’t want to stay with him? If anything shouldn’t it be the opposite? Shouldn’t Geralt want some time away from him and his endless issues? He heard Geralt sigh which made him look at the older man, only to find that he was gathering his things. Jaskier was confused, uncertain why Geralt was leaving so suddenly until he realized that he hadn’t answered the other man’s question. “No, wait!” Jaskier exclaimed. “Of course I want to hang out with you. I like spending time with you, Geralt.” Geralt’s face had gone slack with surprise, but he continued. “Anyways, I had enough of partying for tonight. To be honest it made me a little nervous to be surrounded by all those people.”

Geralt slowly sank back down into his seat, never taking his amber eyes off of him. The older man set his jacket down and said, “It looked like you were having a fun time earlier. You don’t have to hide away in a corner to keep me company. I don’t need your pity.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened at the harsh words flowing from Geralt’s mouth. “I don’t pity you, I just wanted to enjoy your company. Of course, if you’d rather I fuck off, I’d completely understand. I’ve taken up enough of your time lately.” He fell silent, his eyes boring holes into the table in a desperate attempt to avoid Geralt’s gaze. This was it. He’d finally brought attention to what a burden he was. This was the moment that Geralt would realize that he wasn’t worth the time and energy. 

It was then that Jaskier felt a tenuous brush of fingers against his hand. He looked up and saw Geralt leaning over the table towards him. “You haven’t been taking up my time. I--I like spending time with you too.” As though speaking the sentence had taken the dregs of his energy, Geralt dropped back down onto the seat and looked at Jaskier expectantly.

A small smile spread over Jaskier’s face as the meaning of Geralt’s words sunk in. Geralt enjoyed his company. Geralt wasn’t going to leave. A wave of peace flooded through his body at the reassurance. “Well then, let’s chat. It’s been a long time since I went out for drinks.”

“Hmm, me too. I don’t have much time since I have Ciri.” Geralt swirling the liquid inside his glass, seemingly contemplating his next words. “Don’t really have many friends to go out with. ‘M not really a friendly guy.”

Jaskier snorted at that, drawing a startled look from his companion. “Sorry, but that’s bullshit. You’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Once you get past your scary exterior you’re a teddy bear.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at his statement. “A teddy bear, huh?”

“Yeah. A really buff and gruff looking teddy bear.”

They both looked at each other and burst into laughter. Jaskier wiped away the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he gasped for air. From the looks of Geralt, he was struggling with the same issue, but Jaskier could easily say that it was far from the worst malady that a person could suffer from. 

As the two men calmed down, Jaskier took another sip of alcohol and smirked at Geralt. “So, you have no friends and I have only one friend. Maybe we could up our friend count by saying that we are friends?”

Geralt looked at him for a moment before slowly nodding at the request. “Yes, I think that would be nice.”

Both men smiled and clinked their glasses together before finishing their drinks. “Damn, I can’t believe we already need more drinks.” As soon as the words left his mouth a cocktail waitress dressed as a French Maid placed two new cocktails on the table. “Boss said to keep your glasses full. Happy Halloween.”

Geralt huffed out a laugh and grabbed the new glass. “Aiden’s a good guy. I like him.”

“Yeah, tonight was my first time meeting him, but he seems very nice.” Jaskier easily agreed while grabbing his new glass. “He’s also incredibly handsome. Lambert got quite the catch.”

Geralt nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they’re really great together. I just hope that Lambert gets more comfortable in their relationship.” Jaskier tilted his head in confusion and Geralt continued. “Aiden’s a bit of a flirt. Always has been, always will be, but it’s harmless. He really does love Lambert, he just has the ability to charm the pants off anyone he meets.”

Jaskier suddenly felt very hot and embarrassed. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Geralt’s face scrunched up for a moment in an emotion that Jaskier did not recognize, but before he could think about it Geralt’s face had smoothed out into its normal expression once more. “Anyway, Lambert dragged me out tonight. Said it was pathetic for me to sit alone on my sofa while devouring an entire bag of Halloween candy.”

Jaskier snorted in amusement. “Well I had similar plans minus the candy until Pris dragged me out to this bar.” He rolled back his shoulders in preparation for his reenactment of events. “Jaskier,” He said in a high-pitched voice. “You used to be so much fun and now you’re a recluse. You loved partying, don’t be a buzzkill.” He finished his impromptu performance and gave a small flourish of his arm. 

“Bravo!” Geralt said while giving him a round of applause. “Lambert said the same thing.” His friend sighed and took another sip of his drink. “Maybe he’s right. I mean Ciri is getting older and soon she won’t need me anymore.”

Jaskier frowned at Geralt’s downtrodden expression. That wasn’t right. Geralt shouldn’t look like that. With unsteady movements, Jaskier patted his new friend’s hand. “No, that’s not true. Ciri will always need you because you’re her dad.” The last part came out a little slurred and he scrunched his forehead in concentration. “Oh fuck! I think I’m drunk. That’s not fair, I’ve barely started drinking.” Feeling rather put upon, he let his forehead drop to the table.

He heard a deep chuckle from across the table and felt a large, calloused hand pat the top of his head. “There, there.” Geralt consoled between laughs. “You’ll be fine, even though you’re a lightweight.”

He groaned at Geralt’s words. Here he was, drunk and probably on the brink of death and his friend was laughing at him. “You should be nicer to a dying man. My hours on this earth are numbered. The alcohol will soon overw--overw-- take over.”

“Hmmm tragic. A sad story of a lightweight.”

“Oy!” Jaskier exclaimed, lifting his head up and pointing an accusing finger across the table. “I used to be able to drink a lot! I just haven’t drank alcohol for a long time so my tolerance is shit.”

Geralt nodded his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get it. I used to do the craziest things when I was younger. If I tried half that shit now I probably wouldn’t make it through the night.”

Jaskier laughed. “Then cheers to getting old and not being fun anymore.” They clinked their glasses together and swallowed down a large chunk of their drinks. 

Geralt wrinkled his nose after swallowing the drink. “But I can still be fun. I can still be cool.” From the flush on his cheeks and the measured way that he spoke, Jaskier thought that Geralt was also getting a little tipsy. Served him right for calling him a lightweight. 

“Yeah we can still be cool. I can still dance all sexy-like and sing fun songs and shit. And now there’s no one who can stop me! Maybe I’ll restart my old band or take dancing classes again. There are endless possibilities.” Jaskier smiled at the thought of a bright future. Lately, the future had been a scary and dark place that was filled with uncertainty, but sitting there with Geralt he felt more optimistic than he had in years. 

There was a silence and Jaskier looked up to see why Geralt had stopped answering him. He found Geralt blushing an even deeper shade of red. ‘Poor man, he must really be feeling the alcohol,’ Jaskier thought. Eventually Geralt replied, “You can still dance all... ‘sexy-like’. I saw you dancing earlier. You’re good.”

He ducked his head in embarrassment and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess I can. Haven’t practiced in awhile, but I guess I still can.”

“You can,” Geralt replied and then took a gulp of his drink. “And if you can do that then I can go out with a friend and get drinks at a bar.” They both nodded and took another long drag from their respective glasses. 

As the night dragged on and the dance floor gradually cleared until it was only Geralt, himself, and their respective companions left in the establishment. He couldn’t remember distinctly everything that they’d talked about throughout the night, but he knew two things. First, this would not be the last night that they spent together as friends. In any other circumstance this would be the best news Jaskier could receive, but the second truth of the night nullified his joy, because the second thing was that he was absolutely, truly in love with Geralt Rivia, and there was nothing that he could do about it. 

Those thoughts flitted through his drunken mind as Geralt helped him walk towards the Uber that Pris had called for them and he couldn’t help but frown. “What’s wrong?” Geralt slurred, looking down at him. 

“Oh nothing, just a sad thought.” He saw that Geralt was about to ask about it, but he hopped into the Uber with Pris and shot Geralt a smile. “Good night, Geralt. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And as the car drove away he watched the moonlight shine off Geralt’s hair until he vanished from view. Yeah, he was fucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading y'all! I hope you have a happy new year! Let me know your thoughts down below :)


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier bakes a cake and plans a party...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So it might have been a little longer between posts than I had anticipated. Whoops! Sorry about that y'all, but I promise that I am not abandoning this fic. In fact, I am planning to write a short fic about what Aiden and Lambert were up to during Halloween that will be posted in the near future (hopefully this weekend?). I am going to add this ficlet to the series. If you want to read it, keep an eye out for it or subscribe to the series. Thanks again to Processpending for being an awesome beta reader and to all of you reading this. Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Jaskier wiped his forearm across his forehead, drying the sweat gathering on his brow as he surveyed the mess surrounding him. Fuck, he was screwed.

He sighed as he set to sweeping up the flour and egg shells that had found themselves on his kitchen floor and counters. After a few passes with the broom, he came to the horrifying realization that a sticky substance -- most likely egg -- had adhered the ingredients to the floor. In other words, the only way that he would be removing the mess was by scrubbing on his hands and knees. With an audible groan, he went to wet a paper towel and lowered himself to the ground, ignoring his aching muscles and overall exhaustion. 

Jaskier was horrified -- and honestly baffled -- at how badly this birthday cake was coming out. He was a fantastic baker, always had been.  _ Yes _ , a familiar voice hissed.  _ That’s what’s always gotten you into so much trouble _ . Jaskier grimaced at the truth behind the vitriolic words, pushing his aggravation into scrubbing the floor with single-minded focus. 

Even if the Voice’s words rang true, they did not explain why his kitchen was a mess and why he was on attempt number two of a birthday cake. Had he lost his touch in the years when he had been forbidden to bake? After a moment’s consideration, Jaskier wrote off that explanation as well, recalling that he had been able to make a small feast for Halloween with little difficulty. That left only one explanation -- it must be simple nerves, because this cake was not for anyone. No, this cake was for Geralt. 

Geralt. The man whose image had haunted him since Halloween. Although the party had only been three nights prior, it felt as though he had been in love with Geralt for his entire life. However, now it was November 3rd, a date that had never held any sway over Jaskier’s attention until recently, but now it had become one of the most important dates in the world. It was second only to the next day, November 4th, because that was the day Geralt Rivia had been born. 

It had taken every resource at his disposal to figure out the exact date of Geralt’s birthday. He had remembered Geralt mentioning that his birthday was in two weeks when they had gone hiking, but the older man had not provided an exact date of  _ when _ in the next two weeks. At first he had thought of asking Geralt for the exact date, but was certain that the grumpy, but kind-hearted man would brush him off, spouting off some nonsense about it not being important. He knew that he would need to call in reinforcements. 

Upon further contemplation, he had realized that Lambert was the obvious choice. Although the red-headed man could be an absolute asshole, it was obvious that he cared for his older brother. With his mind made up, he had spent his Sunday formulating a plan, all while ignoring both his lingering hangover and Pris’ steady stream of texts prying about the night before. 

That next day he had gone to the gym with Geralt as per usual, but he had taken great pains to ensure that he was the first person to get there. When Geralt had proposed their usual routine of meeting in one of their rooms Jaskier had said, “I actually have some errands to run, so I’ll meet you there.” Confusion had flashed over Geralt’s usually impassive face, but he had simply nodded and asked no other questions. He had been surprised that there had been no interrogation about what errands he would be running. It had been so long since he had been allowed to go where he wanted with no questions asked. It felt strange, but oddly freeing. 

As soon as the bell had rung, he quickly hurried down the hallway, hoping that no one would stop him and ask why he was leaving before 2:20. Perhaps an inkling of his old luck still clung to him because he made it to his car without any inquiries and beat the busses out of the parking lot by 2:03.

He had reached the gym soon after, bursting through the front doors and making a beeline to Lambert. The other man had been sitting at his desk smirking at his fast pace. “You okay there, Pretty Boy?” He had asked with an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Lambert, when is Geralt’s birthday?”

There had been a moment of silence before Lambert had burst out in laughter. “What’s so funny?” He had demanded. 

Lambert had wiped a mirthful tear off of his cheek before responding in breathless laughter. “You came in here looking like a spy on a secret mission and all you had to ask me was when Geralt’s birthday was?” 

Jaskier had blushed, but nodded. “Yes! I know it’s soon, but I don’t think he’ll tell me the exact date. You know how prickly he can get.”

Lambert had calmed down a little by that point and had grinned. “Yeah, I know. He’s a real prick.” At that moment, Lambert had stood up and taken a surveying glance of the gym before beckoning him closer. Jaskier leaned closer as Lambert whispered, “It’s the fourth, but don’t do something huge. He’s a quiet guy.”

From that moment on he had been in a frenzy trying to figure out what to do for Geralt’s birthday. He had known that Geralt’s birthday was soon, but  _ two days  _ was cutting it fine. Before Geralt had gotten to the gym they had decided that Jaskier should make him his favorite cake -- red velvet -- and take him out for a few drinks that night. When he had asked whether Geralt would rather be with his family, Lambert had responded, “We have something planned over the weekend, but nothing on the day. I’m sure he wouldn’t say no.”

And that was how he found himself presently standing in his disaster of a kitchen wearing a ruined white t-shirt and jeans. Red Velvet cake was easy to make! He had made it millions of times before, but for some reason his brain was not cooperating with him today. He just hoped that this final try would yield better results. 

At that moment the timer went off and he rushed towards the oven to check on his masterpiece. His heart soared as he saw that the cake in front of him was perfectly baked, unlike the first batch which had been horribly burnt. A rush of calm flowed through his veins with the knowledge that the first part of his plan was on track. 

Grabbing some oven mitts, he leaned over to take out the twin pans and set them on the counter. Leaving them to cool, he retreated back to the kitchen island where the cream cheese icing was waiting. He nearly stuck a finger in the bowl to taste the decadent icing, but he quickly pulled his hand away after considering how badly he had eaten that past weekend. Though the icing would be undoubtedly delicious it was not worth the feelings of shame that would accompany consuming it. 

With a strengthened resolve, he walked over to the coffee table where a stack of papers waited for him to grade alongside his now cold dinner of a chicken breast, rice, and broccoli. As he passed the time, he split his focus between the robotic task of grading multiple choice quizzes and contemplating Halloween. Looking back on it he knew that he had been lucky to have not said anything too incriminating in his intoxicated state. He was even luckier that Geralt had spent the entire evening with him of his own volition. 

The night had been cherry-picked straight out of his wildest fantasies, and if Pris had not confirmed its happenings the next morning he would have passed it off as a particularly vivid dream. Even then he was only truly convinced that it had happened because Geralt had chosen the tight shirt over going shirtless. In his dreams, Geralt would have definitely been shirtless. 

Even with that small detail the night was otherwise perfect -- well, almost perfect. It would have been perfect if he had not realized that his attraction to Geralt had at some point shifted into something more. Jaskier let out an audible sigh of frustration, putting down his pen and rubbing at a spot of tension building between his eyes. He had been getting headaches more frequently in the past few days, something that was probably due to the stress brought upon by his revelation, but it was not entirely his fault. It was not his fault that Geralt was a brilliant man with a heart of gold and the face and body of a minor god. It was not his fault that his heart had the tendency to fall fast and hard for men and women who did not care for him in the same way. It was not his fault, but it was his burden.

Honestly, he would give just about anything to forget what he had learned that night. He would have given up his guitar, drinking, singing, truly anything to forget. That way he could just get over his attraction to the older man and move on with his life. He would not be in danger of inevitably ruining the friendship that he had fought so hard for. As these thoughts ran through his mind he felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes and blur his vision. There went his plans to grade until the cake cooled. 

Leaning back into the couch he started to count beats to regulate his breathing and calm his racing heart. There had always been something about the simplicity of music that soothed him. No matter how chaotic the rhythm originally appeared, it could always be broken down into smaller, simpler beats. There was order to the chaos, much like in his own life. When he was younger most saw him as a whirling dervish, spinning wildly out of control and causing a disarray wherever he went, but that was only part of the picture. Even his seemingly impulsive moves were calculated, just like a melody. Controlled chaos. 

His thoughts were disrupted by the timer on his phone alerting him that it was time to ice the cake. Dragging his hands down his face, he pushed himself off the couch and headed back to the kitchen while simultaneously pushing his doubts back into the dusty corners of his mind. He grabbed the bowl of icing as he passed the kitchen island and brought it over to the cooling rack. After placing a glob of the thick icing onto the cake, he began to methodically spread it over the cake’s red surface, using the mechanical strokes as a way to meditate on what the next day would bring. 

His plan was simple. First, he would bring the cake to lunch and offer it to Geralt and any other person in the teacher’s lounge. Then he would invite Geralt out for a night of bowling and beer. Jaskier had been uncertain about the latter step, but Lambert had insisted that Geralt loved bowling and beer. “He’s really turning into an old man, but yeah he likes bowling and any type of beer. Trust me, Pretty Boy,” Lambert had said with a wicked grin on his lips. 

It should be simple. It would be simple. Those two thoughts rumbled through his head the next morning as he loaded the cake into the car and drove towards the school. They continued to repeat on a loop as he taught syncopated rhythms to his eighth grade students, only half paying attention to the lesson he had planned. They had reached a dull roar by the time the sixth period bell rang out, signaling that it was time to meet Geralt for their lunch. 

With his heart beating like a drum, he gingerly picked up the cake that contained a tiny piece of his heart and walked steadily towards the teacher’s lounge. Each step made the steady loop of false positivity grow louder and stronger in his mind until he reached the door and it all came to an abrupt stop. Taking one last anchoring breath he stepped inside. 

The first thing that he noticed was that no one was in the room. Jaskier furrowed his brow and took another look around the space to see if he had missed anyone in his cursory glance, but was disappointed to find that no one else was there. A tiny seed of doubt began to plant itself into his brain at the sight of the empty table. What if Geralt did not come? He shook his head in denial, remembering the night of companionship they had shared that past weekend. Geralt would come. Geralt would always come because he was a good friend.

Taking his customary seat at the table in the corner he waited for a head of white hair to walk through the door, but as the minutes passed his hope continued to diminish. Just when he had almost given up, Geralt burst through the door holding a small, white package in one hand and his customary lunch sack in the other.

“Geralt!” He exclaimed, unable to think of another greeting in his frazzled state. 

Geralt gave him a quizzical stare, focusing his attention on the small bag sitting on the table. “Sorry, had to talk to a student.” 

Jaskier felt a small part of the anxiety building in his veins vanish at the simple apology. “It’s alright. Just thought you might not come. Not that you  _ have  _ to eat with me of course. I mean, I enjoy your company, but --”

“Jaskier.” He fell silent at once, waiting for the older man to speak. “You were rambling again.”

Jaskier blushed and looked away. “Oh, right. Sorry, I get carried away sometimes.” Geralt just smirked at him and sat down in the chair adjacent to his, laying down the small, white parcel. Jaskier stared at the box, wondering what lay inside it, but his questions were answered a moment later when Geralt opened it and he saw its contents: two red velvet cupcakes covered in messy icing flowers. 

Jaskier clenched his jaw in frustration. Of course Geralt would already have someone to make him a birthday cake. He was surrounded by a loving family who adored him. He had been stupid to think that his friend would need someone like him to make him a cake. 

As he silently spiraled into despair, Geralt spoke. “Ciri made them for me. I thought you might like one.”

Jaskier almost cried at the injustice of it all. Not only did Geralt have a cake, but it was made by his loving daughter. The green monster of jealousy slowly faded and was subsumed by the inadequacy he had tried to fight these past few months. And the worst part was that Geralt did not even notice the warring emotions within him as the older man looked at him with kind, hope filled eyes. 

Jaskier cleared his throat and replied, “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, but thanks for the offer.” 

Geralt’s face immediately fell back into it’s customary frown as he grunted in disapproval. Simultaneously, he shifted his eyes back towards the small bag lying on the table. “What’s in the bag, Jask?”

His heart dropped at the mention of the seemingly innocuous parcel sitting on the table. Little did Geralt know how much its contents meant to him. “Oh that! It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” He looked back up to find unconvinced eyes staring into his soul. “It’s nothing, it’s just--” He paused and sighed in defeat, knowing that he could not lie to Geralt. As he rambled, he picked up the bag and emptied it of its contents. “It’s embarrassing, but I remembered that you said your birthday was in two weeks while we were hiking, so I asked Lambert for the exact date and he told me that your favorite flavor was red velvet, so I made you a cake.” He looked down at the box and was distressed to find that it had somehow been partially smashed in transit, leaving the already shitty decorating in worse condition than before. “Oh cock! Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter. You already have a cake, so we can just throw mine in the trash if you’d like.”

He finally looked back up at Geralt to find him staring wide-eyed at the ruined cake sitting in front of him, his gaze never wavering from it. Jaskier started to panic, his mind running a mile a minute to discern what Geralt’s expression could mean, but for once his friend’s silence was indecipherable. He waited for a few more moments until Geralt lifted his head and looked deeply in his eyes, all the while speaking so softly he could barely make out the words. “Y--you made this for me? For my birthday?”

Jaskier swallowed and nodded frantically. “Umm yes. I did. I’m sorry it looks so shitty. I used to be much better at decorating cakes but I’m horribly out of practice and--” He cut himself off once he realized that he was once again rambling.

Geralt stayed silent for a few more seconds before smiling brightly and saying, “Thank you. No one -- No one outside my family has ever done this for me. It’s perfect.”

Jaskier’s cracked heart began to piece itself back together with those three sentences, sparsely worded as they were. A smile broke out on his face and he laughed uncontrollably at the joy that Geralt’s thanks had brought him. Geralt fixed him with a concerned look but he waved him off. “I’m fine. I’m just happy you like it. I was afraid that you wouldn’t.”

Geralt shook his head while his eyes shined in wonderment. “Jaskier, I love it.”

They both fell silent until Jaskier startled them both with a loud curse. “Fuck! I forgot the most important part.” With that he pulled out two candles, a three and a six, and placed them on top of the cake before lighting them. “Don’t tell Pris I brought my lighter. She’d kill me if she thought I was smoking again.” He lightly joked, feeling revitalized by the small praise from Geralt. After successfully lighting both candles he refocused his eyes on Geralt and quietly said, “Happy Birthday, Geralt. Make a wish.”

Geralt pursed his lips and after a moment’s consideration blew out the candles. Jaskier watched with a small smile on his face and asked, “What did you wish for?” 

Jaskier was unprepared for the soft look that he found on Geralt’s face and found himself inexplicably blushing at the eye contact. “Not telling,” he responded as the softness was replaced by tension around the corners of his eyes. “Otherwise, it might not come true.”

He nodded at the succinct answer. “Quite right. Must be an important wish.”

Geralt bowed his head, all the while never breaking eye contact. “It is.”

Jaskier was the one to break away his eyes, knowing that if he kept on staring into those golden pools he would never find his way out. “Right. Well then, I brought a knife if you want a piece of cake, but I get it if you want to eat Ciri’s instead of mine.”

Geralt shrugged his shoulders as though he were unbothered by the predicament. “We can eat both.”

Jaskier blinked as the words registered. “We?” He asked, his voice rising to an octave he had not hit since before puberty. Geralt just nodded once more, pinning him with his intense stare. “No, Geralt, I really can’t eat  _ two  _ slices of cake. Fuck, I shouldn’t even be having one.” He ran a hand through his hair as he blew out a heavy breath of discontentment. “I really can’t afford to, not this close to Thanksgiving.”

Geralt’s brow furrowed in confusion and worry before he shook his head. “We talked about this, Jaskier. You’re allowed to splurge every once in a while. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

He scoffed at the words coming from his friend’s mouth. He spoke them so effortlessly as though doing so were the easiest thing in the world. “Geralt, I really don’t want to argue on your birthday--”

“--Then don’t argue, Jaskier,” Geralt pleaded, placing a cupcake in Jaskier’s hand. 

Jaskier sighed in frustration, placing the cupcake back down onto the table. “For fucks sake, Geralt, I can’t! After Halloween I shouldn’t go anywhere near sweets for at least another month.”

“That’s not--” Geralt cut himself off with a grunt of frustration. “How about we split a slice of each? Then it’s only equal to one slice.”

Jaskier considered the proposal and found it the most agreeable option. He knew deep inside that he would not be able to convince Geralt to let him skip out on cake, so this was the best alternative. There was only one problem with it. “But you shouldn’t have to give up your own birthday cake because of me!” 

Geralt’s lips curl up into a smile. “Don’t worry, I can eat as much cake as I want. It’s my birthday.”

Jaskier laughed at the childlike logic and took a hold of the cupcake and knife, slicing it down the middle, ignoring the stab of anxiety that the action caused. He could make one exception for Geralt. It was his birthday after all. “Fine, but if you get sick to your stomach I don’t want to hear you bellyaching about it.”

Geralt just grunted back at him, but shot him a warm smile as he took the first bite of Ciri’s cupcake. “Mmm fuck this is good.”

The two fell into a companionable silence as they ate their respective halves of their slices before they each opened up their actual lunches. “Dessert before lunch,” Jaskier playfully commented. “Thought you were a health teacher, Geralt.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow and the remark. “Not on my birthday, I’m not.”

Jaskier laughed at the witty retort as he simultaneously realized that this would be the perfect time to launch the second part of the plan. Before he could lose his nerve, he said, “So, do you have any plans for this evening?”

His friend nearly choked on the spoonful of couscous in his mouth at the abrupt question, but swallowed his food before answering. “No. Just going to the gym with you and making dinner for Ciri and I.”

Jaskier looked at him for a moment to see if he was joking or not, but after Geralt did not elaborate on what he said, he came to the horrifying conclusion that Geralt truly had no other plans. “Seriously? It’s your birthday and you have nothing planned for yourself? You were just going to go on like it was a regular day?”

Geralt shrugged again, and Jaskier wondered if his shoulders ever tired from the same repetitive motions. “It is a normal day. It just means I’m another year older and if I’m lucky I get cake.” He replied in a deadpan tone of voice. 

Jaskier blinked at Geralt’s sentiments before quickly responding, “No. No that is unacceptable. You can’t just spend your birthday doing mundane things. What if we went bowling? Lambert told me you liked bowling.” He winced at the last sentence, something that he had not meant to speak aloud. Asking Lambert for advice was different than admitting to it. 

Geralt smiled. “You’ve talked to Lambert a lot.”

Jaskier just blushed and looked away. “I just thought it might be fun. I get if you don’t want to, but you should get the chance to celebrate your birthday, even if it isn’t with me. Either way I’m canceling our session for today.” Geralt looked alarmed at that, but Jaskier put up his hand at the oncoming protest. “I’ll be fine by myself at the gym, Geralt. I’ll just do the normal routine.” What he did not add was that he would probably add in a bit extra to work off the past week’s indulgences, but what Geralt did not know would not hurt him. 

“No.”

“No?” He parroted back, lost in the conversation. 

“No, I’d like to go bowling.”

Jaskier smiled at Geralt’s easy confirmation of his hopes, glad that his plan had worked. “Oh! Cool!” At that moment the bell rang, signaling to both men that their classes were starting and that they were late. They both scrambled around the room, picking up their belongings and rushing towards the door. “I’ll meet you at the bowling alley at 6? Drinks and bowling on me!” Jaskier yelled behind him as he dashed in the direction of his classroom. Turning his attention back to speed walking towards his room, he found himself smiling. Maybe Geralt and he could be friends after all. With that reassuring thought, he walked away from the teacher’s lounge with hope lingering in his chest. Everything would be fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter! Let me know your thoughts below <3 Thanks for your patience and I will have another chapter out soon


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